#magic feds

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Soup solves everything.

[fairsweetlonging]

just thinking about how binghe had no idea that without-a-cure even had a cure and he spent all his years as a disciple thinking his shizun would at best be disabled for the rest of his life and at worst die a slow and painful death, and it was to save him.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

CONFIRMED: MK6 ON OCT 17!!

me rn, a moodboard:

[liyazaki]

I love Karan the most in the world. I love Karan only. & I will love Karan forever.

CHERRY MAGIC [TH] | EPISODE 12

[shisasan]

[bosspigeon]

i fully believe that Merrill of clan Sabrae could verbally decimate anyone she wanted to at any given time. she gets so much shit from basically everyone, is talked down to and infanilized and patronized left and right, treated either like she's made of glass or like she's a slavering demon ready to pounce when she's just minding her own damn business--and she only occasionally snipes back with some pretty solid commentary and observations. Even when she does, it's incredibly mild compared to the wildly toxic shit that is hurled at her left and right!

my girl is worrying about groceries and picking flowers and trying to put together the shattered pieces of her culture and she's getting racism and xenophobia and general hateful ignorance from the people she's only ever been exceedingly kind towards, and only occasionally does she offer a clever little quip in return that probably makes them feel stupid as hell!

i fully and earnestly believe that Merrill could cause irreparable psychological damage to any one of her companions if she decided to choose violence instead of turn the other cheek. this sweet and cheery elf darling is cooking some truly heinous comebacks in the darkest recesses of her mind and she is keeping them there for the safety of those around her.

Anders is already on the edge of a mental breakdown on a good day and Merill knows this, which is why she stays so sweet. Blondie is gonna step to her one time too many and she will finally feel justified to let slip the dogs of war. No blood magic required, she's snapping something about his hairline and he is walking his white ass into the sea.

[entropyofnuance]

Delusioned myself so hard I forgot they didn’t bring Cas back from the empty post-confession

[pokemonblack3white3]

Giratina and volo to me are like. Two people who met in inpatient who should not have kept in contact

[professorfcknmoriarty]

Trick or Treat! Your mismag drabbles are giving me life! If you're not too busy, I'd love some EvSam..

I feel like a lot of discussion of their relationship centers around Sam comforting Evan... I'd love to see some Evan comforting/protecting Sam!

Hand shaking, she struggles to not drop the phone.

It rings.

Once.

Twice.

A thi-

“Hello?” his voice is groggy from sleep and she almost sobs in relief at the sound.

“Hi,” she says, trying her best to sound like she hasn’t just been crying. “Hey, Ev’.”

“Sam?” he asks, suddenly sounding infinitely more alert than he was a moment ago. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s- I’m fine,” she reassures him quickly, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand. It’s wet from snot and she feels gross.

“Where are you?” he asks. She can hear the noise of something in the background, rather like air rapidly decompressing from something.

“Why?” she asks. “You don’t need to- you don’t have to come.”

The sound of a window opening and a deep breath in. “Sam,” he says, his voice dangerously low. “Either tell me exactly what happened or tell me where you are, so I can make sure you’re safe.”

“London,” she says, “Outside a pub. In- the West End? I’m- I’m not sure.”

“Got it,” he says. She can hear the sound of his fingers flying across the screen of his phone. For a guy who only had a flip phone for the longest time, he took to screens really well. “I can be there in five. Is that soon enough?”

A door opens behind her and she holds her breath, taking the phone off speaker and turning the sound down so Evan won’t give her away. “Sam?” a voice calls. “Samantha? I know you’re out here.”

She doesn’t respond.

Faintly, through the phone, she can hear whooshing wind - the sound of him on his broom. Just knowing he’s coming is enough to turn her stomach into knots and make her feel safe at the exact same time. It’s stupid, this is stupid. He’s going to think she’s stupid for calling him crying over something this ridiculous.

“Ugh,” the voice says, the door slamming again as they go back in.

Sam breathes out sharply, peeking out from behind the dumpster to make sure they really left and aren’t just faking it. It’s what Evan would do, if he were here.

They’re gone. She turns the volume back up. “Sorry,” she says. “I -"

“Sam, who was that?” his voice is a little tinny but she can make it out okay.

There’s wine all over the front of her dress and T2’s going to kill her over the dry-cleaning bill. She doesn’t answer. “I’m okay,” she says. “It’s not- I’m not in danger. I promise.”

The sound of rushing wind stops and then his voice comes through clearer. “If it’s safe, can you walk out into the street for me?”

She pushes up from her seat on one of the small crates and brushes off her dress, though it’s a futile effort. Most of her things are still inside, she’d only had her phone on her when she rushed out, and now she’s kicking herself for it. She’s going to have to go back in to get her stuff or give them up and hope someone turns them into the bartender so she can maybe get them back in the morning.

Stepping out under the streetlights, Sam gives the street a quick look around. “Okay,” she says, “I’m on the street.”

“Thank you,” he says politely. “I want you to pick something and think about it as hard as you can. Focus everything you have on thinking about it.”

A little confused, Sam closes her eyes, and thinks about Evan.

After about fifteen seconds, she hears, “I see you.”

When she opens her eyes, he’s walking up to her, his broom already stashed away in his backpack. The final few paces, he jogs to her, reaching out in concern at the stain on her dress. “Is that -"

“Wine,” she says quickly, not sure what to do with her phone now. Not waiting for him to open his arms, she throws hers around him, latching onto him. Her face buried in his neck, she breathes the smell of Evan. Warm, a little like the forest after a spring rain, and perfectly him.

His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his other hand not so subtly checking her for injuries.

“What happened?” he asks. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, pulling away to sniffle. “I’m sorry- you shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have called. It’s just -" she stuffs her phone in between her boobs for lack of a better place to put it. “Did I ever tell you about my dad?”

-

With Evan’s coat wrapped around her to cover up the stain on her dress, Sam feels like she’s been wrapped in a spell of protectiveness. They walk back into the pub, him just a few steps ahead of her. “Which one?” he asks, his voice low.

Sam points.

“Wait here,” he instructs, passing over his backpack for her to hold.

She waits.

He strides up to her father, clasping him on the shoulder to get his attention. She’s too far away to hear what’s being said but it’s less than a minute before Evan’s widening his stance and she knows exactly what he’s going to do. Too bad that no one else does.

Her father hits the floor like he’s been slammed into by a cannonball, sliding backwards several feet. He looks up at Evan in a daze.

The rest of the pub falls completely silent, no one daring to move or even thinking to intervene.

Evan steps up over her father, his foot coming down to the man’s wrist to hold it in place. Crouching down, he removes her purse from his grasp.

He opens it, checking to make sure everything she carries is in there, and then digs his heel in for good measure. “Stay the fuck away from Sam,” she hears Evan say, his voice dangerously serious.

“C’mon,” he says, pulling Sam in close with one arm hooked around her shoulder. He kisses the side of her head. “Let’s get you home.”

Sam cries a little again, but for a whole different reason this time.

“Thanks, Ev’,” she whispers.

“Anytime, Sam,” Evan says. “Anytime.”

[beskarfrog]

family meditation session

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Never underestimate the healing power of a good meal!

(For @nibbelraz!)

[flowerflamestars]

Effloresce snippet

Trails radiated outward, tidal waves of long-ago receding water streaking pale across the forest floor until they bled together. One perfect ring outside another, eight trees caught in continual pink bloom, sheltering a salt-encrusted clearing. As though a whole sea had died, dried to nothing but salt and shore, here in a circle on the edge of ancient woodland. Here, over the grave. Nesta paced around where stone had been placed in the ground once, twice, desired speed visibly stymied by both her own wounded leg and Lucien, taking what were, for him, minuscule steps as he helped her remain upright. His gaze was a weight on Elain’s face, warm, but she found it hard to tear her eyes away. Set in salt, ringed round in cedar, eight points of silver-mottled alabaster stone made a star. At its center, laid clear, a single chiseled word: ARCHERON. Elain sank down to touch it, stone unnaturally smooth. Cold, as the misty night they’d passed in panic, waiting for more survivors, watching as the bodies were brought. How perfect, Elain thought, a compass for a grave. An Archeron knew always, where they were in the world, if only they could find the stars. “Something fae died here,” Lucien had been quiet since they’d left Velaris. Exhausted. “Something old.” Nesta sucked in a scathing breath. “Grandmother was human. So far as anyone believed.” A look up, in time to catch Lucien try to carefully pivot, to see Nesta shove him, to stand for a second alone, white-faced. Lucien sank down on his haunches, across from Elain. Dragged one long-fingered hand, surreally alive, through clumping sea salt, before pressing hard, palm down. Whatever the tree-roots told puckered his brow, gold eyes glinting bonfire bright in the dawn. “Two bodies.” Nesta looked at Elain. Elain wanted to stand, to go to her. To rise and run and- to stay right here on the ground until her weight sank into salt, until she was one with the soil, deep enough to demand answers from her ancestors bones. “She didn’t die at home.” Shore cedar, salt cedar, tamarisk- eight mortal trees blooming eternal in faerie to mark a human merchant. A human, and someone else. “She made another home,” Elain told her sister, brushing salt from her dress as she moved, stepping over the grave.

“She got out,” Nesta echoed, half hollow. She wasn’t shy about leaning on Elain, a fact that filled her with eye-stinging gratefulness. Nesta, her sharp familiar shoulder digging in, curious expression not enough to lighten the tense, tight lines around her bloodshot eyes, her worry-bitten mouth. Nesta, dehydrated and poisoned and perfectly herself, alive. “She wasn’t alone.”

[liyazaki]

I really like you, Karan.

CHERRY MAGIC [TH] | EPISODE 6

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

i love it when bad is very specifically a good roleplayer by giving other people good prompts. like casually bringing up wilbur now to tallulah. or when he put missa in the petting zoo. or all those times he Tormented the Lesbians so they could protect each other from him. its just so !!!! I love watching roleplayers be considerate of other roleplayers and gleefully hand over something they Know the other person's character can react to. i've seen cellbit do it, too (that time he handed his knife to bbh. oh my god). it's not a rare thing, and it's possible to be a good roleplayer without keeping that sort of considerate back and forth in mind, but its one of my favourite things to notice. foolish does it too, sometimes- i haven't watched him much, but i did take note of when he Made Sure to bring jaiden along with him on a cucurucho quest. and basically every interaction he had with bad when the eggs were missing. its just so so good

[smollandkindaannoyed]

Okey wait I am thinking more about Charles his bag, because how does it work? Like I kinda get it but what are the physics of that bag? Both the bomb and molotov are fully lit when he pulls them out, which means they stop burning when in the bag? Does that mean that it is like a universe where time stops inside of that bag? Do the bees in a jar also just freeze in place in the bag? But why then are Charles and Edwin able to go in and out of the bag? Do sentient beings not freeze and just like flames do?

I am very much thinking to much about something I shouldnt be thinking this much... but I just need to know how the bag works

[misty-memories09]

Just Ow. Seriously Ow. I don't know about you but I really can't feel the love in the air tonight.

I love romione, I really do. But—

Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.

“Gerremoffme!” he yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it.

just read these paragraphs, it's not a harmless thing she does, the birds attack Ron — they hurt him. And honestly, this is when she has a crush on him... Hermione really pisses me off in this scene because what kind of a person attacks their crushes with a bird when they start going out with someone else?

Ron was genuinely having a good time with Lavender, and obviously this is an act of jealously and really, I don't get it. At all. I don't get how Hermione goes ahead and blames Ron for not returning her feelings and not realising that he does, infact, not owe her feelings. It's even worse when you think about it like this — 1) she openly kisses Krum, 2) she writes to Krum infront of Ron but now that Ron's the one having fun and spending time with someone else she's mad.

What's worse is Ron was expecting something like this, because this is the line we get before hermione attacks him with the birds —

‘Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened.’

Reading this scene more and more is now putting me in a world of hurt, I can actually feel the pain down my damn spine.

And the fact the chapter ends with Harry hearing Hermione sob...no Ron's pain can't be addressed, we can't see how Ron's state was after getting freed from the birds. also adding that line as closing was a choice. A choice that icks me out because it really is giving “hurting you hurts me more” vibes and I'm not here for it.