Xuebing Du
Sweet Seals For You, Always
tumblr dot com
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
NASA
hello vonnie
if i look back, i am lost
Love Begins
EXPECTATIONS
shark vs the universe
Andulka
The Bowery Presents
taylor price
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
roma★
PR's Tumblrdome
No title available
todays bird
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
seen from Bolivia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Norway
seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Nicaragua
seen from Netherlands
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from Malaysia
seen from Mexico
seen from Switzerland
seen from Indonesia
seen from Paraguay
@thestrangesoldier-blog
2
I’m going to keep Cass because i love him so much! I won’t unfollow anyone but my blog name might change from thestrangesoldier to something else. I’ll also be cleaning it up over the next few days.
Also i’ve had an idea for a hp rp stuck in my mind for a while, maybe now i’ll use it. Idk i suck at graphics tho…
I hope to keep in touch with you guys this has been the best time i’ve had for a long time!! Love you all!
Ok sadness time…I’m going to miss this place so much! Best group i’ve been a part of for a long time. Everyone here is absolutely amazing and i want to keep in touch, maybe start some 1x1 rps or a closed group for whoever’s interested
My Skype is DURMSTRANGSARA for those who don’t have it yet. I deleted my personal blog ‘cause i wasn’t using it anymore but you can find me at SLYTHERINXWRITES if you ever need me! I might not post much but i’m always lurking.
I love you all and i hope we will still be in contact and Rp with one another.
MORBIDITI:
we never win but the battle rages on, for toy soldiers / cassius & antoinette.
Her wand was still held tightly between her fingertips. There was a sense of safety with it extended, as if it were simply a part of her arm. With Durmstrang, something dangerous had been dragged into her home. The smell of dark and decay followed them. It had intrigued her but also frightened her. The possibility of a magic prohibited being practice within these walls was exciting, her limbs aching to search.
Looking for peace. Peace did not exist, she thought. Her own mind a chaotic storm of demons howling at the morning sun. Peace did not exist. And certainly not at the edge of a forest known for dangerous creatures. As that is why it had been Forbidden. Her eyes flickered across his face, watching as he had attempted to transform. Remnants of teachings etched into the crevices of his face. She recognized it. But his was far more dangerous than an old grandmother telling her that grass stains were never ladylike.
“You look for peace in the strangest of places.” Her voice had clipped through the air, louder than she had ever dared inside the castle walls. A voice reserved for those who deserved it.
She dropped her arm, slipping the intricate wand back into the lining of her robe. Wishing strongly that she had been rid of this company but all too interested in why he had been out here alone. But she would never question. It was not in her nature to pry into the minds of others. Instead, she would search for the external causes. The whys, the hows. The impending apocalypse that threatened the sanctity of the mind. She cared nothing for the rotting corpse. Only the weapon.
Her dark eyes had held his gaze. She was not a coward, afraid of the glances of others. It had shown a weak heart. And the Zabini family had been laden with strong women unafraid of themselves and their power. She took a step closer, noticing that her familiar had traveled with her. His padded paws soft on the ground. So, strange. Her cat had hated to be out on the grounds. Disliking the way dirt clung to his feet. Perhaps he had believed her to be in danger.
“Do you really care or is this only a formality?”
Cocking his head slightly to one side the Bulgarian boy studied the girl before him with amusement. Wand grasped firmly into her hand its tip was still pointed defensively in his direction. However Cassius did not phase. Neither injuries nor death frightened him, not for quite some time anyway. If anything the notions interested him a little too much to be considered healthy.
Indeed he was one to look for peace in the strangest of places. Probably because that was where he’d be least likely to be the target of prying gazes when he needed to compose himself. Or release his frustrations in a more. The Forbidden Forest had seemed like the perfect location since everyone within the British school seemed so terribly afraid of it. And those who weren’t---Cassius assumed they would likely be far too drunk in that moment to give a damn.
“I’m not the type to take refuge between bookcases when I want silence. And usually I find it in the most chaotic of places. It’s a bit of a paradox really.”
The boy shrugged nonchalantly as he replied to her affirmation, his gaze never leaving her figure. He was quite the paradox himself if he was being honest but the girl needn’t know his life story; nor would she care most likely. Although she was probably wondering about the reasons someone would choose to spend the night in the woods rather than attend some silly party. Then again his conversation partner was not within the castle walls herself and Cassius questioned the motives for a brief moment. With a tiny smirk he concluded he didn’t care much. If she’d ask his motives he’d share.
“Honestly? It’s simply a formality. I’ve been told I need to work on my manners. You should not leave your cat unsupervised in a place like this. Never know what’s out there waiting to pounce.”
His words were not meant to be a threat although the interpretation was up to his conversation partner. The sight of the cat reminded him of his own pet---most likely sound asleep inside his trunk between carefully folded sweaters---who would not be caught dead in a place such as this. Sherlock, he’d picked a strange name for his cat yet fitting. Some days the pet seemed smarter than the owner; or maybe it was simple animal instinct which Cassius unfortunately lacked.
“Dark?” She asked, curious. Her eyes watched his face as a small smile appeared on his face, she almost didn’t notice it and she assumed he didn’t offer a smile to just anyone so she her face remained kind. “Je suis désolé, My mother was absent when I was younger but she never tried to push her views onto me, she never really tried to do anything.”
“Dark magic. The really dangerous kind. Unforgivable curses, loads of blood, the lot.” It came easy to speak of such matters, although it probably shouldn’t have. Yet it was something Cassius was good at therefore he enjoyed the topic. “I believe i forgot to forward my last name. It’s Lestrange. I assume that sheds some light.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m better off without them, trust me. The only family is need is my sister.”
“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” she chimed with a beaming smile, obviously just trying to grate on his nerves. “But, aw, thanks. I’ve always wanted to be admired by some tall and dark stranger, though disappointment wasn’t exactly on my bucket list.” As he continued, she merely shrugged; there was no disagreeing with his statement. She had nothing to add. “Lucky me.”
“No worries—I brush off everything, so it’s most likely I don’t give a shit. Depends if you’re the patient sort of not. If you get bored of whiskey, I have vodka. And not the cheap kind.” Part of her school supplies involved swiping a bottle of vodka from her stepfather, nestling it beneath her robes and books in her trunk.
“Well then consider me flattered and whatever.” In that moment there were very few things which could irritate the Captain; she wasn’t one. If anything he was amused. “Stranger? Eh, I'm not shocked. I wouldn't have caught your name if it wasn't for the Tournament either. It’s Cassius, try not to forget this time, ok Nemo? And I don’t disappoint love. Ask anyone i’ve slept with. Perhaps i’ll show you sometime.”
“Excellent! We're on the same wave length then. I hardly have any to give myself. Bring it! I never say no to vodka. It's like saying no to air. So, how about we drop the boring homework and get going? We have two more days to finish anyway and boredom’s not going anywhere.”
I will always scare; and more than anyone else - myself.
Franz Kafka
“Art is something everyone should be allowed to love or appreciate, even if it is trivial.” She spoke passionately with a soft smile on her face. “Even when I am around her I do things she disapproves of. I love my grandmother, she helped raise me but her views are too medieval for me.”
“Oh, i know that. Tell it to the old crow...He thinks if it ain’t dark, it ain’t worth it.” Cassius shrugged nonchalantly. Somehow the smile on Monet’s face managed to allow a subtle one to creep onto the boy’s lips. “Oh, i know a thing or two about grandmothers with medieval views. So i guess i can relate to that. Except mine never did shit for me when i was a kid.”
“Belle français,” he mockingly marveled, a short, breathy chuckle exiting his lungs. All bark, no bite. That was Lucien’s philosophy, regardless of whether he was legitimately capable of biting or not. He didn’t call back the surly Durmstrang to rile him up; he craved entertainment, and watching the boy struggle to humor his incessant banter was just as amusing as a regular conversation built on geniality. Every word of Lucien’s was always kept light, every jab coated with crystal clear jocosity. While he didn’t reciprocate any spite, perhaps his teasing manner was comparably cruel. It was like a game to Lucien — how far he could push the other boy before enough was enough. “Come on,” he continued. “Don’t tell me you came all the way from Durmstrang just to sit by yourself and brood.”
I’m surprised you even know the words. Lucien stifled a laugh. “I come from a long line of purebloods. It’s only natural,” he replied flippantly. That he was the son of a blood traitor was another story that was far from necessary to tell, and it wasn’t as if the other boy cared for small talk. The understated reputation that Beauxbatons had somehow earned was something he would have to get used to. It should have kindled a certain vexation within him. He should have felt his hand twitch toward his wand to demonstrate what he knew about curses right then and there. As pretentious as Beauxbatons came off as, it housed an eclectic population of students. Tidy and talented, proper and precise. The offhand remarks would pile up eventually, but for now his frustrations laid low. He had faith that Beauxbatons would prove its worth through the Tournament.
“The silk does take a lot of upkeep.” He straightened his powder blue tie, his fingers lingering on the intricate knot at the top of it. “But when we’re not spending our days tending to our uniforms, sometimes they teach us how to transfigure parchment into crêpes, or how to wandlessly polish our shoes. It’s a wonder how Beauxbatons has more Tournament wins on its record than Durmstrang.” He smirked, his eyebrows bouncing for a single beat to punctuate his point. If you can’t beat them, join them. “What?” The ambiguity of the Durmstrang’s final phrase left him unsure of what to think. Considering the brooding air that surrounded him, Lucien wouldn’t have been surprised if he was the type to follow through on threats, but that didn’t stop him from scoffing, “Like you’ve ever killed anyone before.”
Despite their little exchange lasting no more than a matter of moments it soon began to appear as if they’d been spitting mock remarks at one another forever---at least in the Bulgarian boy’s eyes. Normally he would have long walked away from the annoyance---preferably while the other was mid sentence to emphasize how little he actually cared about an unasked for opinion. Yet something had made him stay and Cassius chose to blame the dead beat of the still ongoing party.
“Well I didn’t come all the way from Durmstrang to be pestered either. I just thought this would be a little more…exciting. Yet all that’s going on is talk, talk, talk.”
It’s only natural? Was that kid joking? Cassius couldn’t help but attempt to stifle a laugh of his own---although ultimately failing and allowing a silent burst of mock laughter to escape his lips before the corners of his eyes darted back to the Frenchman. God only knows his own family was renowned for the numerous occasions during which they’d used the curse---even when unnecessary---with his grandmother as the poster figure of the insanity. Yet he found it hard to believe someone within the family of his conversation partner could have fallen into that pattern.
“Well then, has anyone in your long line of pureblood wizards ever actually successfully cast Avada Kedavra, if it’s only so natural?”
An eyebrow arched with curiosity as he awaited an answer. Cassius could have been wrong, he had no last name in order to make a proper connection---not even a first name if he was being honest---but something told him that this time first impressions had been correct. This kid didn’t look like he could murder anyone. And even if his assumption was incorrect, Cass didn’t quite care. As the other walked him through several tasks performed by Beauxbatons students Cassius’ interest diminished even further. There was no way they could be that boring…
“No baking classes? I’m shocked.”
It did bother him---the comment about the French school being superior in number of victors---probably more than the other boy had intended. Feeling his muscles tense it took all that was left of Cassius’ self control not to fully spin on his heels and perform a practical demonstration of martial magic in the middle of the crowded hall. The Captain did not take lightly to being called a loser, even indirectly.
“One more champion above Durmstrang. And it can hardly be called a victory.”
Cassius spat out between his teeth as he attempted not to look affected; although that ship had probably long sailed. Like you’ve ever killed anyone before. To that Cassius smiled genuinely turning to fully face the Frenchman. This time there was no trace of rage on his face, just contentment. He was just as guilty as the rest of his family, although he did not have the same impressive body count to speak of. Well, if he’d ever speak of it anyway. Cassius didn’t recall those memories often, and never fondly, but this time he was grateful for them.
“If you’d put money on that statement, you’d lose.”
we never win but the battle rages on, for toy soldiers / cassius & isaac.
If there was one place Isaac didn’t want to be, it was a party. The elation he experienced after hearing the names drawn from the Goblet was palpable. He wasn’t one of the champions. Rejection had never seemed so sweet. His life was safe and so was his reputation. He had his own reasons to celebrate that night, and he would not do so among the general population of the school.
He used the rabble of the party to sneak out to his usual haunt - the Forbidden Forest. He slipped into his animagus form like he was slipping on an old glove, and for a few blissful hours, he raced around the trees, running under the hooves of Thestrals and wrestling a pair of wolf cubs for a particularly interesting stick. The simple life of the creatures around him helped melt away any lasting concerns he had about his near-miss with the tournament, and by the time he changed back to his human form to leave the forest, his muscles ached sweetly, his lungs bursting with exhilaration.
Sliding through the cover of the thinning trees, he was already thinking about the peaceful sleep he would finally have that night, when an enraged cry echoed out through the night. Isaac froze in his tracks, terror washing over him. Out of the darkness, a rock shot past his head. He ducked, blood pumping, and searched desperately for the source. Somewhere in the distance, a dark shape was moving. Someone was out there. There was no use in running - whoever it was had no doubt already seen him. He could have returned to his animagus form and dashed away, but fear robbed him of all logical thought. Instead he held up his hands in a gesture of peace, and stammered out, into the silence, “Pl-Please don’t th-throw anything else. I’m not here to hu-hurt you.”
It sounded ridiculous, coming from him. Of course he wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He couldn’t even kill the flobberworm that found its way into the Ravenclaw dormitory the previous night. But the stranger in the night didn’t know he was, and couldn’t even see him if they did. He had to reassure them somehow, if only to prevent them from throwing another rock.
The sound of a meek, stuttering voice was enough to further confuse the Durmstrang boy as he attempted---and failed miserably---to regain control over his weary mind. Was the voice in his head taunting further or was there really a person---flesh and bone---standing before him? Panting heavily, as if he had been running a thousand mile race, Cassius squinted his eyes into the darkness to try and decipher that riddle. A small gesture made by the figure was enough to answer his question.
No way in hell would his father ever surrender, least of all to the son he despised so deeply, therefore it was safe to conclude that tired eyes and an inebriated mind had indeed played a cruel prank which almost ended tragically. At least for whoever had been stupid enough to decide it would be a marvelous idea to disturb the Durmstrang boy’s peace. Cassius clutched the wand tighter in his hand yet he did not point its tip upwards, preferring to leave it facing the cold soil. Maybe he’d have use of it later.
Hurt him? Like there was anything in the world which could hurt him more in that moment than the bitter reality of absolute failure. A short burst of laughter escaped from between the Captain’s lips, both mocking and sad at the same time. He was no stranger to pain, especially the physical kind, and he had the scars to prove it. Yet he’d never truly learned how to deal with the emotional kind. Instead he kept his feelings bottled up inside until eventually---like in moments such as this---they exploded in his face.
“Well obviously. Otherwise you’d have used your wand by now.”
When he spoke he sounded weaker than he’d intended, his voice hoarse from having howled at the wind, but just as sharp as always. Eyes narrowing he scanned the figure top to bottom with curiosity. It still refused to come forward and that annoyed the soul out of the Durmstrang boy. He did not appreciate being left to speak to a shadow---even though he’d done that to others himself. But in that moment he’d had more than enough problems with ghostly figures to not be affected. Plus, if he was forced to move he’d most likely crack.
“Come out then. I promise not to throw anything else your way.”
“Ah,” Monet nodded in understanding, “I ‘ave been painting since I could pick up a brush. And my papa is an artist as well so I learned how to do it young but I understand.”
“That’s what I always say, but my grand-mére would disagree.”
“My father was never fond of art. Nor did he approve of either me or my sister letting ourselves be distracted by something so trivial. But i never listened.”
“Well, she’s not here is she? Therefore you could give a try to something she disapproves of. Not like she’ll ever find out.”
“Oh, no, I’m terrified. Let’s keep that if from becoming a when, yeah? I’d hate to hurt someone from another school. It’d reflect so poorly on good sportsmanship and the whole welcome committee bullshit. No, that’s completely your fault, but I’m glad you’re starting to see the light. Yeah, quite tragic— Oh, is that so? I’m shocked. Now that deserves a round of applause.”
“You never said anything about actually inviting until why now, but I don’t see why not. The faith you have in me is astounding, you know that? I’ll just have to surprise you, but trust me, I can stomach that wine and then some.”
“Well now you’re just mimicking my remarks. And just when i was beginning to admire your wit. Oh, I disagree. There’s no light here, just a very bored man and his needs. And at the end of the day, sex is sex.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “In that case i guess you should applaud yourself.”
“My mistake then. As for faith, i have none in general so don’t take it personally. Really? Guess i’ll have to wait and see, won’t i? Plus, i do know where my teacher keeps the whiskey. If you get bored of green faeries.”
“Oh, alright,” she said as an impish grin decorated her face. When Cassius turned away from a split second, Aurélie tucked the peony he threw at her, its petals a pale pink, into one of her textbooks. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t think it.” The girl flopped down into one of the seats and slipped her books away into her bag in haste. She gently swept her wand across the vicinity, and the scattered flowers rearranged themselves into a bouquet, even neatly wrapped with a silk ribbon. Catching the bundle out of the air, she waved it in the boy’s face. “Take them, I wouldn’t want to waste a perfectly good bouquet of flowers. Let’s go get lunch!”
On their way out, she flourished her wand over the shards of the broken vase. The pieces flew back together seamlessly, and what looked like a brand new vase sat by the doorway.
“So, what do you think of the Champions?” asked Aurélie, her hands clasped behind her back as the pair traveled the corridors. “Do you like the Durmstrang ones? I don’t really know them, but as for the Beauxbatons ones…well, I like Lou. Lucien? Not so much. He’s a bit of a prick, mind my language. I’d be alright with him if he just apologized, but…oh, nevermind.” She stole a furtive glance at Cassius as they neared the Great Hall. “It’s too bad that we didn’t get pick, hm? Well, not too bad, I suppose. I’d hate to have to been pitted against you, much less see you get hurt…oh, that’d be horrid.”
“Sadly I can’t stop you from thinking. But if I could, I would.” And that was the truth. Cassius didn’t quite take to being thought of as anything but malicious or unsociable on a good day. Probably because he had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to react to not being made the villain of the story. While the French girl proceeded to cram all her school supplies into her bag with such haste as if the fate of the world depended on it, Cassius took his time collecting his belongings and placing them carefully in his backpack before tossing one strap across his shoulder and turning to check if Aurelie was finished.
As he spun round he walked nose first into a neat bundle of peonies, blinking several times with confusion before his hand managed to wrap around the strains of the flowers. With a quick nod he agreed to the plan, he was feeling rather hungry. As Aurie headed for the exit---careful to fix the vase he’d broken on her way out---Cassius did not follow immediately, keeping a few steps behind, just enough so she wouldn’t see him quickly drop the bouquet into the vase before walking out. He never really liked flowers, they reminded him of his mother.
Hands shoved into his pockets, Cassius now walked beside her down the crowded corridors yet his mind was a million miles away. However when Aurelie mentioned the Champions it was enough to slap him right back to the cold reality. Jealousy took another stab as his pride, this time pressing the knife even deeper, hitting his anger chord as well. It was a good thing his hands were stuffed in his pockets so she couldn’t see the nails dig at the flesh drawing blood in order to keep him sane. Clearing his throat, Cassius finally spoke. “Change the subject please? I don’t quite feel like speaking about my failure.”
You’re seeking something, but at the same time, you are running away for all you’re worth.
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore (via wordsnquotes)
11 Wizarding Schools | The Durmstrang Institute
we never win but the battle rages on, for toy soldiers / cassius & jace:
After speaking with Laurinka at the astronomy tower, what she’d said about solid ground proved true; Jace longed for it beneath her feet once more. She didn’t delay but didn’t move particularly quickly through the castle, studying her surroundings as she’d learned to do over their days here. Their castle was full of surprises, often joyous ones, sometimes annoying. Still, it was fascinating to her. She imagined it would be hard to keep her from exploring every inch if she’d been going there since she was a girl – she’d had a harder time controlling her curiosity then.
Since there were many students roaming the grounds after hours, Jace didn’t feel too poorly about exploring on her own. She didn’t love to make things harder for those she was staying with, and at Hogwarts, she was a guest. Usually, that would make her abide the rules. Tonight, however, seemed a night for making mischief and trying new things, which was exactly what she was in the mood for. The time for moody introspection had passed, and she was determined to move on.
Exiting the castle, she took a deep breath of clean night air and looked around. It was harder to see where she wanted to go from this vantage point, but her latest object of fascination was clearly visible; the “Forbidden Forest”. Said to be full of dangerous and deadly creatures, Jace found it oddly enticing. Most of the beasts said to lurk in the trees were ones she’d only seen in textbooks. Confident as she was in her own ability as a witch, she figured she might take a crack at entering.
After all, what use were the books if she never had to use their knowledge through practical application?
Moving faster now that she was out of the castle, she headed towards the trees. Maybe they could’ve seemed menacing, but to Jace they only seemed to be full of promise and adventure. The warmth and light of the castle was beginning to settle in her veins, bringing out a side of her that was usually reserved for holidays and home. She felt excited in a way she so rarely did at school.
The canopy above made the moon vanish, and she murmured a quiet lumos to light the tip of her wand. She moved carefully over the rather large tree roots, looking around and listening to the sounds of animals all around her, just out of sight. It was a bit spooky at times, but that only heightened the strange enticement of this place.
Hearing rustling, she moved towards the sound, putting out the light on her wand. After a minute, her eyes adjusted, and she made out a dark silhouette. Another student, it seemed. She went to approach and say something when a yell startled her into raising her wand.
A rock came hurtling towards her and she froze it in the air, using nonverbal magic to gently float it back to the ground before lighting the tip of her wand once more. The voice was as she thought she’d recognized; Cassius Lestrange.
“Do you mean me harm, Cassius?” She asked carefully. While she had never been particularly afraid or put off by their Quidditch captain, he didn’t quite seem himself in that moment. Maybe he’d mistaken her for someone else, but maybe something had happened to cause him to react to her this way. Jace couldn’t fully be sure, though instinct led her to believe the former. “I would’ve preferred something more along the lines of hello.”
In that moment he meant harm to everybody and nobody. Part of him wished his right arm had twitched upwards and his brain allowed his lips to move, spitting out an unforgivable curse. Yet reason had ultimately prevailed and Cassius was truly grateful for what was left of it stepping in. Having finally recognized the voice---only after the girl spoke a second time---he knew he could never lived with having harmed one of the very few people he liked to think of as friends.
Realizing he’d been standing there staring for almost five minutes after Jace had spoken to him, the boy knew he needed to come up with a reply before she believed he’d gone completely insane---even if that was not far from the truth. Clearing his throat Cassius spoke and to his relief the words came out in a much calmer tone than he could have hoped for. So maybe he could still patch things up even in the slightest.
“No, of course not. I…I was just not expecting to see anyone around here at this hour. That’s all.”
The reply still failed to explain why he was throwing rocks at the howls of the wind or screaming like a lunatic but Cassius simply shrugged off the event as if it had been the normal reaction of a sane human being. Maybe she’d just think he mistook her for a creature of the supernatural variety---with all the mystery of the woods---and was simply trying to scare it away. Highly unlikely; but one can always hope.
Not wanting to come off as weak, especially not towards someone he’d later have to coordinate on the playing field, Cassius worked on quickly rearranging the pieces of his usual careless façade before he could step into a full line of sight. Wand tucked safely within an inner pocket of his jacket, arms folded across his chest and a neutral expression painted on his features. Even though within him the storm had not calmed down in the slightest; if anything his pulse had gone even higher now brining an unpleasant and hard to ignore ring into his ears.
“So, why are you out here?”
The question was a poor attempt to shift focus from his instability and hopefully give the Captain something different to think of rather than failure and how much he resented the feeling. Jace’s name had not been called as one of the champions either but Cassius couldn’t even be sure she’d placed her name into the Goblet to being with. Exhaling silently he decided to banish the thought from mind. It wasn’t of any importance anyway.
