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@bloumiddel-blog
❛ S-So you... Have to do th-that, ❜ fingers mimic how the gun was held, the “barrel” pressed against his temple, ❛ Every time? ❜ Huh. Looked as though rituals were mandatory for any sort of magic, especially when it involves summoning whatever... That was. // @indivinate
dklfajsdfk i got distracted but i’m back i might post a starter call in a bit!
eyesofwater
omg bae hello ☻
NAZY AAAAAAAAA hello hello!!! how have you been!!
gamenu
MY BAE hmu wit them rps
IM ON MY WAY !!!!!
SURPRISE your favorite gremlin is back and ready to die
‘ i will continue to bloom through the harshest of winters. ’
gamenu:
“Longer than me. Do ya know how long i’ took me ta heal yer ass from tha’ las’ Witch figh’?”
....Witch? He doesn’t recall that --- Oh, right. He’d gotten his ass handed to him, right. ❛ Sorry to trouble you like that, N-Nicole... I must’ve gotten cocky. ❜ How embarrassing! He was about to ask if they had slaughtered it but he felt it best to ask later on, after he paid her back for patching him up. ❛ How a-about I get you something to eat? F-For healing me and then... Falling asleep like th-that. Least -- Least I can do. ❜
magicisanima:
“DEO!! DI!!”
Haruko nearly screams at the sight of them! Prepare yourselves for the HUG OF YOUR LIVES!!! // @bloumiddel + @fabrikatr
❛ HA-HARUKO?!?!? ❜
He had thought something terrible had happened for her to yell so loud but he knows that look of her’s too well and is prepared for her hug with open arms!!
fabrikatr:
‘ couple hours…? you drooled on your math worksheet. ’
And said worksheet was glued to his cheek with spit, a thing of beauty. He doesn’t bother to remove it, merely rests his chin on the table with an apt groan. ❛ Mmm.... Serves it right for being -- being so b-boring. Did I f-finish it at least....? ❜
❛ Uuu.... How l-long was I... Asleep... ❜
We have all hurt someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. we have all loved someone tremendously, whether by intent or accident. it is an intrinsic human trait, and a deep responsibility, i think, to be an organ and a blade. but, learning to forgive ourselves and others because we have not chosen wisely is what makes us most human. we make horrible mistakes. it’s how we learn. we breathe love. it’s how we learn. and it is inevitable.
Nayyirah Waheed (via thequotejournals)
When he was 13 and still new, he felt each kill was something grand and worth proclaiming to the world. He had laughed then, sang ‘ ding-dong, the witch is dead~! ‘ with euphonious irony, and collected his prize hastily to march home like the hero he was. But, that was when his soul was blue ( and bright ), not the present white ( and harsh ) it was, long before apathy settled into sinew and bone. Genuine gusto has since fermented into routine lethargy: less a knight galloping into battle, more veteran caught between an indifferent sense of duty and found blood-lust.
The guy should be dead: corpse dissipating with the labyrinth, the universe already forgetting his face and name. Well, should be, anyway. He was very much alive or... He seemed to be so. In Deonte’s humble opinion he appeared to be stuck, catatonic even. It was annoying, but he’s obligated to be empathetic. That Witch was not exactly Hello Kitty, after all. ( And if he was too mean he knows that Haruko and Mami will know, and relentlessly lecture him. Di wouldn’t care so much about it, which is why he loves them the most ).
Reality finishes arranges itself and settles like an old home, groaning and uncertain of its own mass and age. Gravel crunches beneath his heels as he nears to kneel in front of him to do his best to coax him out of his stupor. At least now his irritation mingles with polite concern, the magi’s lips twisting in a worried frown. ❛ Uh, you... Okay? ❜ He asks simply, doing his best to look them in the eye. No injuries could be felt, least none to inflict this taste of trauma. ❛ D-Do you know what d-day it is? Your n-name? ...You b-better answer before I. I slap you, or s-something. ❜ // @renovae
bcbybats.
• ∙ [ 𝓙 • 𝓐𝓵𝓾𝓲𝓷 • ♥ ] ∙ • ⤵ Look at that, it’s the short boy he was bullying. ‘ So, I see you HAVEN’T gotten any taller. Ever thought about wearing heels. ’ // @bloumiddel – starter call
Oh, great. This guy again -- Why was he so obsessed with Deo’s height? ( Honestly, there were a lot of other things to pick at besides that: he’s a mess, every bully’s dream ). His chin subtly lifts, and his mouth purses with obvious dislike, ❛ And I-I see you haven’t -- gotten any f-fucking manners yet. ❜ And he’s not going to dignify their stupid question with an answer but... Of course he has. He’d just rather continue to struggle to reach a high place than to risk snapping a bone in two-inch heels.
sacrosanctbijou.
Gabriel casts a wayward stare, nearly pleading, o’er to those adorned in gold but it seems to do little in terms of dispelling their sneers. They only seemed to then falter in vigor once they realized that the newest arch would not cave and satiate their need for a physical confrontation and even throughout their departure they had cast Deonte’s way a few cruel hard glances —— ones which Gabriel had long since accustomed to feeling burnt into his back. The messenger instead tasks himself with e’er-gently rubbing the top arch of Deonte’s wings, manicured nails pressing into delicate feathering just enough to offer a sort of reassurance.
The messenger frowns then, and for a moment looked as if he’d even come to weep for his youngest brethren. ❛ … Mikael cannot even bring himself to speak… him with malice. ❜ To utter the certain name was a blasphemy in and of itself but Gabriel was quite sure that the other knew who it is that he spoke of. ❛ He loves… he loves all of us, Deonte. He loves you. If you burdened him… he would make it clear. ❜
He’s meant to fight and yet, to brawl with them over their ( his ) pettiness would be shameful. If he had let himself fall for their goading, he would have gave them what they desired: his humiliation and the twisted support for their false claims. Deonte’s deeply-rooted insecurities weren’t something he concealed, he lay it bare in the smallest and most naive of ways; to be viewed as a nuisance, something He crafted as a joke, was known to have him lose all his sense. Perhaps, he is not meant to be a soldier he is still a cherub, still dependent on praise to survive.
The young being seems to further still at Gabriel’s touch and chirrups, a soft affirmation that their affections are effective. ( A belated sob catches in his throat but they are still in ear-shot and he is not a cherub! So, it’s swallowed, and he tastes burnt-out stars on his tongue ). The brief mention of him brings about a headache, and bumps his forehead against the Messenger’s chest to quell it.
❛ I… I-I know. He does. I just. ❜ Want to be sure I’m not a mistake. He hiccups what remains of that swallowed sob and scrubs at his face, a smile visible once he lowers his hands. ❛ I’m s-sorry, can we stop… D-Discussing this? Please? Let’s t-talk about fun things. Nice things. I, uh, heard you crafted new jewelry? May I see it? ❜
sacrosanctbijou:
@bloumiddel. | x.
❛ Deonte, please… ❜ His voice is as soft as the touch which settles itself atop the bend of the smaller’s wings, beckoning the fellow arch to calm and for bristled feathers to settle. ❛ T-there’s no use in arguing… ❜ He did not mean to imply that his brethren had no right to rebuttal, but this was simply the nature of most Warriors not directly trained beneath the Patron of Soldiers and no words would do to change that —— at least, not easily. ( not to mention: Gabriel was quite concerned that they may gladly take the invitation to fight with Deonte. )
He was so close to throwing himself at them, give that fury bubbling in his belly a chance to be sated. But, Gabriel’s touch halts his leaping and from fists battering the others’ flesh. He opts to swivel in a hurry instead, with a puffed up chest and cheeks, a vain attempt to dispel his anger. ( Sparse feathers collect around his feet, baby ones molted from the stress he tries not to hear the lingering remnants of their jeers ).
❛ B-But, Gabriel th-they ----!! ❜ He doesn’t finish his shout, a single glimpse of his senior’s face crushes the urge. It escapes from from his chest with a single, frustrated sigh, one that threatens to send him afloat. The arch’s face is blotchy, shimmering with the grace that pulses just beneath his skin. ❛ What. What they s-said, ...! I-I’m not a burden to Michael, am I...? If, if I am he w-would tell me... R-Right? ❜
