I’m totally head-canoning that Marianne’s war cry is (unbeknownst to her)very similar to a goblin mating call. That’s really why Bog looks so startled at first before he recognizes her. He’s used to being challenged, but not screamed at! XD
The screaming had stopped once more.“Are you doing that?” Harry asked, in regards to the … screaming. He didn’t know how the other could possibly be doing it, but … The Monster opened its mouth properly for the first time, under Harry’s scrutiny. Its lips stretched wide and cavernous, revealing teeth sharper than any he’d ever seen. Even those of the wolves that hunted in the forest. They were startlingly white, and between them rested a black, snake-like tongue. The screaming hit him a moment later – the voices spewing out of the Monster’s mouth, as if they were trapped in his throat. Harry blanched. He stared, wide-eyed, unable to look away from the sight. After a moment, the Monster’s teeth clicked shut once more. Back to a pleasant smile, and silence with it. Oh god. Harry swallowed. It looked like the Riddle. Almost. Same handsomeness, same form – it was as if the painting had sprung to life. Except … not quite right. Instead of the gorgeous, albeit cold, blue eyes that Harry had seen in the painting, these were like obsidian ink. Then, in sharp contrast to the bloodlessly pale skin that had been creamy and healthy in the painting, the Monster’s veins dipped to the same darkness as his gaze. Coupled with his dark clothing, he looked like an old black and white photograph. Something sucked dry. Only his lips, vibrant and bloody, had colour. It smiled.“There are six of us,”it answered, leaning against the door but not stepping in. “You’ve met the Beast, the Riddle, and You-Know-Who here.” Unlike Voldemort’s voice – high and cold – the man before him had Riddle’s voice, pleasing in its baritone.“And you’re the Monster,” Harry clarified. “Quite,” it murmured. - Kisses Cursed
Darkness: cold, lonely darkness. Flashes, of your family. Screaming. Darkness once more. Darkness and red.
For the sister left behind, the one for whom they returned, and the one who will help free her home. (listen here)
1692 (Glencoe Massacre) - Nazareth / Bloody Shirt (Bastille remix) - To Kill a King / Run Boy Run - Woodkid / And The World Was Gone - Snow Ghosts / It Seemed the Better Way - Leonard Cohen / No One’s Here To Sleep - Naughty Boy ft. Dan Smith / Libera Me - Interview With The Vampire Soundtrack / Starlight - Muse / This Is Why We Fight - The Decemberists
[image description: a flock of birds in flight, possibly crows. Text: I blinked and the world was gone: a Cassandra de Rolo mix]
I feel like every time now I see a post that is a positive or negative statement, the opposite side rebloggs and responds to shut it down, then it becomes like and endless chain of dismissing the other side with accusations they are lying about being able to do or not do x.
I don’t want to be “stay in your lane” but unless the post is taking a shot at your side, how about everyone just fucking blocks the post and moves on instead of making literally all of the posts the same awful nasty back and forth bullshit???
and screamed some more.
and once i was all out of breath,
and my lungs were completely empty,
i refused to inhale again.
because why would i want to breathe
in a world
where you don’t love me?
“Damn it, Stiles!” You shouted, throwing your hands out to the side as your boyfriend’s glare dug into the side of your skull. “You can’t just go fucking do that! You should know this!”
The chair that Stiles had been sitting on screeched and slammed into the floor as he abruptly stood. You could see the frustration and anger written clearly on his face as he stared you down, silence falling between you two.
“That’s it,” he breathed, the quiet rage in his voice making tears burn the back of your eyes. “That’s it. I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore, Y/N.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “We’re over.”
It felt like someone had driven a knife into your chest when you heard those two simple words. You could barely swallow around the lump that was stuck in your throat, and the hot tears that fell down your cheeks made you want to scream.
Trying to swallow once more, you squared your shoulders and looked Stiles in the eye, where regret was in full bloom. “Fine.”
“If that’s what you want, then fine.” You were not fine with it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else.
“Y/N, wait. No. I didn’t mean it.” You watched as the tears sprung to his eyes, the furious regret and grief held in his eyes and on his face reaching out to you and touching you. “I didn’t mean that. You have to understand. I love you, Y/N. I would never. Please, no.”
You stood there, feeling hurt and a twinge of pity for the crying man in front of you. Not knowing what else to do, you stepped forward and pulled Stiles towards you in a warm embrace.
“It’s okay,” You whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We are in the age of high school musical revival. For so long we were trapped in the dark ages, when even a mention of the wildcats would warrant ridicule and mockery. BUT NOW our time has come once again to worship at the altar of zefron and we can finally scream our sacred chants once more. Together, brothers and sisters! WHAT TEAM?!
Regardless, thank you to all you gorgeous people that decided to click that little follow button next to my name! It’s mildly intimidating to know that you have the population of a small town watching your every post, but I’m delighted that so many find my work and content reasonably pleasing!