ARCHIVED

The sky SWALLOWS your screams. The ocean crests in time with your FURY. Just look at how the wind is whipped into a frenzy by your arms. ( Those who are scared by your shipwrecks have NO RIGHT to brave your sea. )

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this blog is now archived.

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hello hi. i miss you all.

[sickberns-blog]

                            TO THE LEADER, THE PARIAH,                                THE VICTOR, THE MESSIAH:                                                THIS IS WAR.

[machiiavelliianarchive-deactiva]

if there was anything more piercing about blaise zabini than his gaze, it was his laughter, the authentic laughter reserved for extreme excitement. or extreme GRIEF. it rings through the wake of the latter now, hollow and yet obese all at once, echoing through the space and consuming him raw. but it’s evident when it ends that this is not a cry for celebration. it’s a call to arms. “ piss off, pansy, with all o’ tha’ bullocks! you shouldn’t'a done tha’, blaise! you shouldn’t'a done this, blaise! ya shouldn’t love me, blaise! ya shouldn’t follow me to the ends of this bloody earth! and i’s my fault, yeah? for LETTING myself love you? please, pansy, let’s get this straight. i didn’t LET myself do anything, and if i could turn it off, i'da done it a week ago, but i can’t, so you can take all this - self-deprecating bullshit to someone else because it ain’t me. i CHOSE you, but i didn’t choose to love you. trust that there’s a difference. either way, don’t you dare stand there and blame me, and don’t you DARE stand there and try and make me believe that you don’t deserve it or that i could'a done better because that’s not me. that’s not even you! that’s everyone else! that’s draco and that’s ya parents and that’s - whoever else told you that you weren’t enough or just a little off or not quite there. because you were ENOUGH FOR ME. and i’m not everyone else, so don’t try and blame me.”

and the anger is a firecracker, quick to explode and just as quick to fizzle out, his flexing muscles and grinding teeth slowing with as much as haste as they’d intensified. because he hates being angry. he hates being VULNERABLE. he hates feeling as though all he’d ever put forth for these people were things he himself hadn’t chosen. and he wants to kiss her because it’s common knowledge, even amongst THEIR sort, that this is what you’re SUPPOSED to do in an argument. that is how you end it. that is how you WIN. that is how you get the girl. and he takes a step forward but then takes two steps back because blaise zabini is not a fucking cliche, and he doesn’t want to win because he shouldn’t HAVE TO COMPETE. and so instead he takes his seat again, closing his eyes and laying his head back, allowing that rage to drain from his chest and clear his airway. even so, he is acutely aware of her movements, perceptive to dissipation of proximity between them and only FULLY relaxed when she takes a seat. and he tells himself it shouldn’t be this hard. then he tells himself it wouldn’t be worth it if it wasn’t. and that’s to assume that there is still something to be SALVAGED.

“ ya think i don’t know wha’ ya did. i knew, pansy. i’m not an idiot. i knew what you were playing at, what you would do the moment i left this room. i knew by the morning, it would be my fault, and i didn’t care because what did i have to gain? what was there to come back to? you’d be mad at me for a time, draco’d break you again, and i’d be there as per usual whether you wanted it or not because that’s how it is. and that’s fine.” eyes falling open, he stares up at the ceiling high above them, searching hard as though what to say next was etched in the stone. “ truth be told, i don’t much care what you do now. you may not get it, but i do. i know that no matter what, i’m gonna right where i am. today and tomorrow and the next day. and so fighting about it’s sort o’ useless, itn’t it?” the smile is sharp and the eyes are cold, but his heart beats like a war drum. “ i shouldn’t save you. i shouldn’t pick up the pieces. i shouldn’t love you. well ya know, there’s a lot of things people shouldn’t do and can’t help but do them, so. you do wha’ you want, pansy. you take what you need from me or don’t, but i’m not budgin’. not really.”

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          at this point, she’s about ready to give up. her nostrils flare and they burn and she blinks a couple of times because he’s angry and she’s confused –– and it’s never a good combination between them. and of course she should have known that he’d STOP loving her if he could, because who would choose to love her when they could love someone else? she turns to the sofa and observes the upholstery with a detached sort of interest, tries to swallow every sentimental retort gushing out from that part of her that refuses to be cold and cynical and all the things she’s brought up to be, like blood pouring out from an open wound. nothing she can say can fix this. nothing she can do can make it better. she might as well stop trying now, cut her losses and run back to the relative safety of her own wretchedness. 

          she wants to tell him she wasn’t playing at anything, and more than hurting him what she really wanted was to protect herself. she’d been wearing her heart on her sleeve too much as of late that it’s become an easy target. certainly, it’s been battered enough the past few days that she didn’t think it could take any more. they’ve reached a stalemate –– that much was obvious. they both ran into the walls they built around themselves, and there’s really nothing else to do but turn around and walk away. she pulls at a loose thread on the sofa so hard that it snaps, and turns to face him. “if you’re not moving then i will, because i can’t do this.” it was too hard. all she really wanted was for something real to hold on to, and draco gave her some semblance of that before he started to slip away. she can’t be sorry for that, no matter how much it hurts sometimes. no matter how much she’s grown to resent him. even now that she knows how blaise feels, she’s still not sorry. she may have apologized for unknowingly hurting him, for not recognizing his actions for what they were, but she won’t be sorry for her affections and where they lay. things might change sooner or later, and part of her wants to try to change them, but there’s now and there’s the truth, and the last thing she wants is to be responsible for his suffering when he cares about him.

          “you can stay where you are, but i won’t let you pick up pieces of me anymore. i have control over that much, at the very least.” even as she says the words, she wasn’t sure how the aftermath would look like, if she could even stand to look at it. maybe the distance would be something that’d help, or maybe it’d make things worse. maybe it’d create a gap so big no bridge would ever be able to come across. what she knew was she relied on him for too much, for too long, leaned on him with all her weight and the weight she’s carrying on her shoulders. it has to come to an end somehow. “and you’re right. fighting about this is USELESS –– so our best bet is an understanding. you leave me and my mess alone. we won’t talk about this ever again. i’ll stop asking why or how and you can do what you want.” it might be the best compromise, because if he thought she’d let him be the one to put her back together the next time she falls apart, he’s wrong. pansy can’t let him do that anymore, knowing what she knows. she stands from the sofa, smooths out the crinkles on her skirt and attempts to gives him a passive, unperturbed expression. “i have that potions homework to work on. should’ve done it yesterday but sketching took up most of my time. i haven’t been outside for a while so, i’ll head out down by the lake. i’ll see you at dinner.”

[whatisthepointexactly]

Harry Potter Spells

“The truth.“ Dumbledore sighed. “It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.”

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Send “Nudge” on anon if you want to ship with my muse but you’re too shy to say it off anon.

Bonus: Tell me something about your character that you think would make mine fall for yours.

[noorva-deactivated20170726]

hp names + flower meanings

↳ pansy parkinson

admiration, thoughts, fantasy

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               PANSY SOPHIA PARKINSON, PRAETOR OF LEGIO FULMINATA

          what does it take to be a good CRIMINAL? for pansy parkinson, the number one requirement is to NEVER look like one. ever since her father and brother died in a warehouse explosion, the responsibility to become praetor has fallen on her shoulders –– and people QUESTIONED it. people questioned her and her ability to head a crime organization, one of the largest operating in italy. people looked at her and saw a GIRL in designer clothes, too short to reach the next shelf, a hundred pounds ( give or take ) soaking wet –– and they didn’t think she could do it. they didn’t think she could lead legio fulminata and become QUEEN in a playing field dominated by kings and dictators.

          but she wasn’t just a girl           and the designer bag she’s carrying in one arm is a forgery.           one of her own.

          she was six when she first broke her first lock, seven when her father began taking her to jobs as a distraction, fifteen when she stole the vermeer piece in istanbul and got back just in time for sunday brunch. she was a THIEF born and bred –– a FORGER by her own choice, and she was not about to let anyone think otherwise. and yet … there was a novelty in being underestimated. the fact that she’s dismissed as a brainless, superficial, incapable socialite fully dependent on her trust-fund was a thing she used to her advantage. no one looked at her and saw CRIMINAL, and it made being one a lot easier.

          she ruled with an IRON FIST –– ruthless in her jurisdiction. and with every successful heist dissipated the initial doubt in her capacity. old patrons who once deferred to other groups for jobs upon finding out that fulminata was now lead by a GIRL came back into the fold, and with each job perfectly executed began the whispers about rome’s girl-king. fulminata’s praetor –– armed with lightning and an unshakeable will. and the best part? she could still walk down the streets of italy with her high heels click-clacking, and nobody would know any better.

additional information:

1. pansy’s father and brother were murdered. aside from being fulminata’s praetor, she is also looking into what she believes to be an assassination, and she will not stop until someone pays. 2. she used to work for her father as a forger before she was sent to new york to study. she’s an arts major. 3. she’s 21 years old.

DAY JOB: SOCIALITE ORIENTATION: DEMISEXUAL RELATIONSHIP STATUS: SINGLE

pre-established relationships:

harry potter –– @dominusmortis childhood friend and ally blaise zabini –– @machiiavelliian childhood friend and ally

[snitchcrux-deactivated20161009]

        ❝ You are the true master of death, because the true master does not seek to run away from Death. He accepts that he must die, &  understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying. ❞ ——— WRITTEN BY LIAM ; ART CREDIT.

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do you ever sometimes feel like you’re out of your depth bc that’s me all the time.

[yo-why-am-i-here]

reblog with your mbti type and whether you’re team cap or team iron man

istp - team cap

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@weplaythefox liked for a starter ( for blaise ) ;

          “will you STOP doing that? it’s distracting.”

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@argentforged liked for a verse starter ;

         “we really should have DIED when everyone else did.”

[hoechloin]

I’m not sure if you noticed, but my brother is not exactly warm and fuzzy.

[machiiavelliianarchive-deactiva]

there’s a moment, JUST a moment, of gentle calm where he allows his demeanor to shift into a man his mother would be proud of, a man his mother would love enough to MURDER when she’s had her fill. his eyes gleam with an uncharacteristic bout of emotion, lips twisting into this sweet smile no one could ever say they’d laid eyes upon. but pansy has a lot of privileges that others could NEVER claim to have. he isn’t surprised.

“ ah, right, of course. because you and draco malfoy are the only ones who get to have pity parties. because shutting me out the ONE time i admit to feeling SOMETHING is perfectly fine. after - after everything i’ve - ” putting his hands up and dropping his eyes as though he’d walked in on a compromising position, he steps back and shakes his head. “ apologies, pansy. the thing is…” his movements change once more, coming to attention with fingers stroking his chin. “ you see, i’ve TRIED to make everything about you. i’ve been trying really bloody hard to make it all about you. all of it. and i tried to protect you.” the laugh is bitter, acidic, burning his throat and making him ILL with shame. “ i would have done anything to keep you from getting hurt. and i knew that if i couldn’t, i had to at LEAST protect you from yourself… and from me. and you didn’t let me because you assumed i was hiding something from you when in reality i was hiding YOU from something like this. and…”

and…and he realizes that he’s already overdone it, underestimated her, overstated himself. taking a seat in an armchair, he arranges his books in his lap with a neutral expression in place upon sharp features. “ you’re wrong about that,” he mutters, wetting his lips. “ i will love you. that’s not a matter of choice or circumstance. whether you can or you can’t, whether i think you can or i think you can’t, i will. i’ve got to.” but of course, he’s lost this battle already, and he’s going to lose her anyway, and he doesn’t matter what he says now because she’s got her walls up and she’s changed the password on him. a rueful smile sets over his lips, fingers brushing the spine of his potions book. “ i didn’t mean to tell you, y'know. i shouldn’t have. i wish i hadn’t. and you don’t owe me anythin’. i don’t WANT anythin’. fact, maybe i didn’t mean it at all. maybe i just wanted to - i thought i could save you from… wha'ever. i’ll leave you be then, pansy. tha’s fine.”

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            “no, blaise. that is NOT what i’m getting at. but i have no idea, no idea what to do. you walked away ANGRY the last time, and i couldn’t just pretend that didn’t happen. had i not distanced myself, had i APPROACHED you –– what would you have done? you’d have pushed me away!” her voice shook with conviction, hands balling into fists at her sides as she matched his imposing height with her anger, with her BRAVADO. it didn’t ease the guilt churning in her gut like butter, nor did it ease the building pressure in her chest, making her feel like she’s about to COMBUST into a thousand shattering, razor-sharp pieces. the truth is she pushed him away first so he couldn’t do it to her. it was a SELFISH thing to do, but pansy never claimed to be anything else. she’s SICK and TIRED of being left and pushed aside, of being made to feel important only to end up being insignificant, expendable, an option instead of a priority. it was her life’s life’s recurring theme. she’s always the one trailing after the people she loved, fighting for their attention as they focused on other things and never on her. he thinks he’s the only one who’s ever felt that, but he’s wrong. and it’s why she’s struck so hard by the CULPABILITY –– because she’s never meant to make him feel that way, but she ended up doing so ; she ended up being the kind of person she resented. pansy would’ve begged for forgiveness if only her own sense of self-preservation wasn’t so strong, her HUBRIS so overpowering –– but she can’t help the way she’s made. she can’t rewrite her code overnight and repress the all-encompassing urge to put herself first and foremost.

          shutting everyone out seemed like a good place to start –– and she knew it might hurt him, but she hadn’t imagined it to affect him this way. she hadn’t imagined affecting ANYONE the way she seemed to be affecting him, and it stumps her –– this kind of reaction. it stumps her that he loves her, it stumps her how OBVIOUS it is now because she’s never paid attention before. and he’s hurting, she knows that, she’s aware of it because she’s hurting too. “you should’ve told me.” ( i could’ve loved you earlier. we never could’ve gotten here, where there’s too much pain and resentment between us that we can’t seem to move past it anymore. ) “you tried to protect me and now we’re both hurting –– and by god, if anyone needed protecting it would’ve been YOU. you should’ve never let yourself love me. you of all people should’ve known better, blaise.” and it wasn’t strictly because she loved someone else, neither was it because she couldn’t love him. it was because she didn’t deserve HOW he loved her. how it was SELFLESS and PURE and GOOD –– everything she isn’t. for all intents and purposes, pansy will never be deserving of him, and how much she still wants to KEEP HIM despite that only serves to CONFIRM what she already knew. had she been a better person, she’d want to let him go, let him find someone more worthy of what he can offer, someone who can offer something back –– but she’s SELF-SERVING and GREEDY and long CORRUPTED by the evil she grew up with, and she doesn’t want him to go anywhere at all.

          and it might mean SOMETHING –– how she doesn’t want him to leave. it might mean she’s so used to his presence she couldn’t bring herself to be without, or maybe it means something else, something MORE, something other than the selfishness and the crippling fear to be well and truly alone. pansy wants the CHANCE to find out, she wants to take out her heart and pull it apart and see if she’s capable of something good, something else –– but it wasn’t up to her. she wants to ask him to let her try, at least let her try –– but she’s scared to ask that of him when he’s already giving too much of himself to her, and she’s SCARED that he’ll question her sincerity when he’s so convinced she couldn’t love anyone but draco. she looks around the common room in all its echoing emptiness and her own helplessness pushing her down like a weight on her back, and she couldn’t find the right words to say. nothing in her head seemed adequate, and they were all she had. “i don’t think we can do much by way of saving each other. if we don’t ruin ourselves, something else will come along that will.” she makes her way to him, as quiet as she could, and sits down on the couch adjacent to his armchair. they were silent for what feels like forever, her head bowed down as she let the unpleasant cocktail of emotions swirl inside her like an impending storm. “i don’t want you to LEAVE me. i just –– i don’t want to keep hurting you. i don’t know what to do after last time. i’ve never...” a pause. a sharp intake of breath. a look of vulnerable frustration. “you should really QUIT trying to save me, blaise.” her hand twitched, and she finds herself reaching out to him only to pull back at the last second. “i did it first because i thought you would.” the confession tumbles out all on it’s own, and she’s both sorry and not at all sorry for it. “and i didn’t think i could take it if you did.” 

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Blaise: Remember what happened the last time we went to a Gryffindor party? Things got totally out of control.

Draco: As I recall, you got totally out of control.

Pansy: Who? Bodyshot Blaise?

Blaise: Quit Calling Me that!!!

[yocalio]