Baphomet commission for @zaraku!
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Philippines
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Philippines
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from India
seen from Angola
seen from China
seen from China

seen from Maldives

seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Kazakhstan
seen from China
seen from China
Baphomet commission for @zaraku!
Tarde o temprano las noches terminan, las malas experiencias quedan atrás, y podemos seguir adelante.
Crossover with @animosus-project (corvus and leviathan are from ANIMOSUS)
❛ well, i don’t like any of those things, but i like you. ❜
softer world sentence meme ( molly & i would die for newt ): @animosus
Newt could be brusque sometimes in that particular Newt way of his, harmless, but as direct as a fist clipping the chin, surprising enough to stun, but not enough to hurt. When it isn’t aimed at Molly it makes him laugh with delight, and when it is—well, it still makes him laugh, but he laughs at everything ( life’s much more fun when you do ). This is one of those rare times where that earnestness pops Molly’s words right back into his mouth, cheeks and ears heathering a faint magenta.
The circus was family, but Newt is his friend, and that is a choice both of them have made, Molly thinks, childishly pleased and cowed by the realization all over again. The very tip of his tail jingles as it metronomes back and forth.
“I know,” Molly says with a rare gentleness. Not so rare these days, around Newt, he supposes. Lies are safety, but he’s learning that he’s safe here too. He pauses.
“Not how I expected you’d find out,” he admits with a sheepish grin as he perches on the edge of the wizard’s table. It’s bare now, copies of his book snapped up eagerly by witches and wizards alike. It’d been a treat to watch Newt field their deeply absurd questions about the creatures therein, their fascination both palpable and heady. A copy of Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them is heavy in Molly’s hands, and it’s a bloody gorgeous thing, leathered and embossed, the edges of the pages gilded in gold. Molly holds it reverently—that is to say, a bit scared, a bit honored, very awed—keeps looking down at it and tracing the letters of the title, the corners of his mouth crooking inexplicably.
Which he can read, thank you very much, he simply…can’t read much more of it.
He’s not particularly embarrassed by that. The print is small and a little complicated, though digestible, he imagines, for most people without his set of issues. Plenty of other things to do in life than spend it with his nose stuck in a book, and it’s not like his inability has any bearing on his intelligence, and yet.
This is Newt’s book. This is Newt’s bloody life in his hands, coming together after he broke his back for it, risked his life and career for it. It’s a testament to how much he loves these beasties of his, from the most minuscule and obnoxious, to the sharpest taloned and most dangerous, and gods above, Molly has never been one for apologies, but the compulsion scratches up his throat when the scant light catches the foiled script of Newt’s name. Embarrassment is alien to him, but he’s embarrassed he can’t do this one simple thing for his friend.
The words stick like something in his craw, but the expression he shoots Newt is plain, repentant, and for once he doesn’t bother masking it. Molly presses his lips together and thumbs the edge of the bound cover.
“I’ll learn,” he murmurs. His smile is soft, so very soft, “This’ll be the first and last book I’ll ever read. Cover to cover. Swear it.”
ஃ ➡ @animosus gets caught
because of BACKLOG, it’s taken an almost EMBARRASSING amount of time to notice there’s a CONCERNING lack of information coming from one of the watchpoints--- investigation shows there’d been no DISTRESS SIGNAL sent, no sort of message relaying TROUBLE, no NOTICE towards operatives undergoing ‘hibernation’ of sorts---not that the location of the watchpoint would dictate such thing as hibernation a NECESSITY, but jack’s using ecopoint : antarctica’s recent stasis as EXAMPLE.
---there’s nothing notable about the status of the england base other than the absence of intel it shares------ which has led to the strike commander personally volunteering to go check up on it’s status.
( he’s looking forward for the chance to escape CONFINEMENT. )
---UPON ARRIVAL jack notes the watch point doesn’t seem entirely DECREPIT, still NEW in it’s existence, but it certainly doesn’t appear to be INHABITED.
the watchpoint is situated on a vast grassy plot, a wide expanse of open ground as much of what’s done here is terrain & wildlife data collection ; jack had only had the chance to visit ONCE, during it’s opening, and it had been far more PRISTINE than NOW--- the only part of the scenery that suggests nearby caretaking is a small garden situated out front, this of which earns BAFFLED expression from the strike commander ; though he doesn’t let it deter him as he steps for the base.
doors chime & grant entry, revealing confirmation that power still surges through---& it’s not the ONLY THING running through the watchpoint, apparently ; as soon as the doors close behind him, a reddened BLUR darts past jack--- it HALTS, presenting itself a FOX, & THAT’S when jack’s concern only increases---had the animals gotten out ?
worry spared towards wondering whether scientists had been ATTACKED, considering some of the animals that are ( were ?) housed in this facility. anxieties overshadow LOGIC as jack bolts down the hall, met with more animals along the way, expecting to come across the main laboratory to find DEATH------
& when he shoves past the indoor arboretum doors, hurries to the top of the stairs to look beyond the banister, he instead finds a single man standing below, seemingly UNBOTHERED as a plethora of creatures mill about around him.
thoughts HALT, jack’s expression turning BEWILDERED, speech momentarily LOST in his confusion until finally he’s able to find voice & call down :
“ WHAT is GOING ON here ?”
@animosus
“Hullo!” Emily chirped, taking a seat across from the young man. She settled her handbag next to her and leaned forward, bracing herself against the table. She took a quick look at what she assumed had been his lunch and then back to him. She really hated to pounce on him during his lunch, but he wasn’t easy to get to and he had been ignoring phone and email, which she understood but they kind of needed him.
“Are you Newton A. Scamander, by any chance?"
Las locuras siempre estan esperando solo tienes que animarte a realizarlas y ¿ que mejor que por alguien que tu amas?
Anonimo
“You don’t gotta hover over there, Newt. I swear I ain’t gonna TRY t’ read any of your thoughts. I already told you that I don’t do it on purpose an’ I’m assuming you don’t got that much I could possibly hear which would make you so uneasy.” Queenie was used to people being stand off-ish with her. It was something that had been happening for most of her life, at least since the moment people realized she could hear thoughts. “An’ I promise I won’t say nothing ‘bout you an’ any feelings you might be hiding for Teen ... even if I do think it’s ‘bout time the both of yous talked ‘bout it.”
closed starter for @animosus