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#ghost plant is so easy to prop it’s insane
echeverily · 2 years
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Ghost Plant
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elenamegan14 · 4 years
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Twisted Wonderland: Headcanons for Dorm Haunted Houses Pt.3 - Heartsyabul
MASTERLIST
Part 2
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(Play at 0.75 speed for full effect)
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THE ATTRACTION:
Heartsyabul’s theme is a creepy Wonderland Garden. 
Guests and students alike first entered an abandoned greenhouse, filled with decaying flowers, bloodied pitchforks and traces of shattered pocket watches and pastries can be seen. The guests are led deeper into the greenhouse, where the plants become creepier: living flowers with faces on them that moans and groans, dreadful man-eating plants, snapping venus flytraps that almost bites at unsuspecting guests and students, doll’s eyes plants, dracula orchids, ghost plants, poisonous fungus that exhumes putrid pollens and corrosive giant pitcher plants. 
Guests are unnerved by “victims” of the plants itself: one “victim” is dying when half of their bodies are melted off by the acids, another one begged for their lives at the jaws of venus flytraps… and some had become hybrid fungus zombies that jumped out and scare people along the way. 
After escaping the treacherous greenhouse, the guests have arrived at the-
Rose maze. Twisted rose maze. Also, it’s foggy as well. Remember that time when Riddle Overblot and the rose maze garden just turn dark, spooky and roses are sort of dead? Well then- imagine that atmosphere elevated UP TO ELEVEN. 
I’m talking about thorny vines, dead roses dipped in red-blood paint, endless hedges filled with it. Oh, and there are random heads everywhere - WHY ARE THERE RANDOM HEADS EVERYWHERE???
If it’s not on the tea party table, then it’s mounted on a pike. It looked realistic too, so guests and students are really unnerved when they enter. 
The centerpiece of their garden labyrinth is a floating garden that served as the execution site, where the “Red Queen” gleefully declared everyone unfortunate to come across him as permanently EXECUTED. It was surrounded by a moat, a top of crimson waters filled with heads and headless bodies.
It’s like the Disney version of American McGee’s Alice. 
Trey is, of course, the host. He dressed like a Mad Hatter, all dapper with a playing card motif and BLOODIED. 
He’s waiting for guests and students alike at the first part of the maze - a botanical tea party filled with card attendants. 
He encouraged the students to eat and drink his specially made treats. Strawberry tarts so red like blood, suspiciously red tea, an assortment of petit fours and macarons between blood-stained teapots…
Why do they have boxed presents at the tea party? Hey, look, we can actually pick it up and see what’s underneath it! Oh, what a cute teapot! Oooh! A dormouse plush! Oooh! This one’s a-
“BOO!” A Cater head cackled like a maniac when a present is lifted, eliciting screams everywhere from students and guests alike. 
Cater uses his clones to do the job of terrifying the guests and students alike. 
He carefully arranged his clones to position themselves where their bodies are hidden, either using optical illusion, under the bush or even sometimes using invisibility magic, so that only his “heads” are moving. 
Cater is having a blast at taking horrified pictures of guests and students alike. People considered it an honor to enter Cater’s official “Scream-of-Fame” page on his MagiGram. His favorites so far are either Grimm or Ace - they have the best reactions out of all the students entering the haunted house. 
Riddle’s costume is elegantly terrifying. It seems that his Overblot form gives him ideas because his costume as the “Red Queen '' is regal, with spider-like motifs, tattered fabrics, and plenty of playing card references. His crown is also drenched with red paint, his makeup is adorned with black, red, and gold paints and black tears falling from it. According to the lore that the dorm had set for their haunted house, the “Red Queen” shed tears of sorrow after his subjects failed to show up, vowing to take revenge on them all.  
Oh, and yes, he does have a shiny, large, ax that he was ready to “hack” people to pieces with. 
NO ONE ESCAPES FROM RIDDLE. Either they’re too scared to run or they’re begging for their prefect to come to his senses and spare them. Riddle punished the students for trying to break his character.
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THE MISSION: 
The host grimly told the students that the “Red Queen” is on a rampage because EVERYONE IS LATE FOR THE UNBIRTHDAY TEA PARTY (this opened up the traumatic wounds in Ace’s memory), and he’s currently in the maze looking for someone to behead. Their first mission is to find a key inside one of the teapots or presents by lifting them one by one. After the key is found, they need to find a way out of the maze to retrieve the charm on the dead center of the execution/trial ground. 
Oh, and one more thing: SCREAMING WILL ONLY SUMMON THE RED QUEEN’S CARD EXECUTIONERS OR THE RED QUEEN HIMSELF TO YOUR LOCATION. They’re dead serious. 
Okay, now the fun starts. 
It seems that while the jumpscares remained the same, the second and third years on Heartsyabul’s haunted house staff took this as a chance to TORMENT the first years. 
They touched, breathed, and even chased them all around the garden house. Already several people are running away back to the exit or pissing themselves. 
Because MC is an easy target for them, one of the fungus zombies takes the opportunity to skim his hands across MC’s waist, even lower-
Jack kicked the poor guy in the balls, Deuce makes a mental note to report to Riddle for inappropriate misconduct. 
During their excursion on the maze, Deuce had commented how realistic looking these heads are.
Someone suspiciously approached a realistic-looking head… when it suddenly blinks. Cater gave a mouthful of a bloodied grin at Ace.
“Found… A BODY!”
Cue skyward scream. 
As expected, Riddle appeared out of nowhere, sporting a bloody grin, horrifying every student in the vicinity. “FULFILL YOUR PROMISE, TRAPPOLA! SPADE!” He cackled as he chased after the poor group, swinging his ax like a madman, with Ace frantically promising to Riddle that yes, he will behave and follow all the rules for the next two weeks of his life. 
As promised, Ace and Deuce screamed the most, thus adding more scream points. 
Of course, there was a parade of endless living “heads” on every hedge, either a clone of Cater or student actors, laughing and scaring every student and guests that came nearby. Be it on the pike, disguised as a flower, or even jumping out from behind the rose bush walls. 
Ace had to jump onto Deuce like Scooby Doo and Shaggy - poor Deuce is carrying the shivering Ace all around the maze. 
On top of that, the monsters and the “living heads” had continued to draw shrieks from the students and guests at inopportune times, that it also “summoned” Riddle or the actors dressed as Card Executioners straight to them. 
Epel almost smashes a Cater head with a giant teapot nearby in surprise when he lifts one the boxed presents. It took nearly the effort of MC, Deuce, Ace, and Jack to stop the farm boy from committing homicide. 
It’s a good thing too because this Cater head holds the key in his teeth. 
MC tried to take it, but their hands got licked by the Carter head (almost sensually too)  that they dropped the key back to its maw. 
Deuce got his fingers bitten by the Cater head. MC’s group simultaneously closed Deuce’s mouth to keep him from screaming and drawing Riddle’s attention. 
“Now, now, Prefect Riddle must say that either one of you have to scream-” Cater chided playfully.
“CAN YOU NOT?!”
Jack finally got the key after forcefully prying it from Cater’s mouth. 
MC found poor Grimm hiding behind a card soldier prop. “Still thinking of going through this alone?” Nope, Grimm had enough of being “a lonely brave magician”. HE’LL GO WITH MC’S GROUP, WHEREVER THEY GO. Thus, one more party had been added. 
Ah, yes, and to get the charm, they have to get across a red-blood moat towards the floating garden full of heads and “dead” bodies. On which “headless zombies” could spring out unannounced to drag you underwater. Good times. 
Once they finally reached the center of the floating garden, they saw the charm locked inside a locked heart-shaped box. All that they need to do is use the key to get the first charm.
Do you think this is over? Riddle suddenly appears out of nowhere, carrying a bloodied ax and swung it at the unsuspecting MC who dodged it just in time, screaming “OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!” in bloody murder. 
Grimm swore he really DOES nearly lose his head (and half of his body. And his soul.). 
“PREFECT RIDDLE, PLEASE BE REASONABLE!” Deuce begged for his life(?) as Riddle continually hacked away at the group. 
MC’s group ran all the way to the exit and closed the gate just as Riddle’s insane laughter echoed behind them. Even though it was acting, the panting group noted that this version of Riddle is just as traumatizing as the one as when he was Overblotted. In their ten-minute break, Ace and Deuce could not stop shuddering. 
Now that MC’s group has got the first charm, the majority of students that took on this challenge plotted ways to forcefully reclaimed it...
Having finally recuperated from Heartsyabul’s haunted dorm ordeal, they slowly marched into their next destination… Savannaclaw.
TO BE CONTINUED
BONUS:
As per Azul’s request, all dorms are also tasked to sell their own haunted house merchandise (for Crowley’s charity purposes!). It’s selling like hotcakes - although not as fast-selling as Octanivelle’s. 
Aside from T-Shirts, Stickers, and keychains, their fast-selling items are Trey’s rose-shaped sugar cookies and cupcakes.
Part 4
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deathonyourtongue · 4 years
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Winter Passing | Chapter 2
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Summary: Injured and left for dead in the middle of a nowhere state, he traverses peaks and valleys for days without seeing any sign of civilization. Just as death’s icy fingers begin to coil around him, he finds a cabin in a clearing. Terrified from years of being told fairy tales and ghost stories, he nevertheless knocks on the door. When he wakes, he finds not a demon, but an angel, long removed from the insanity of the modern world. Pairing: Slightly AU!Henry Cavill x OC Word Count: 1.6K  Warnings: None for this chapter  A/N: As always, like if you want to be added to the tag list. Message me if you want to be removed.
@radaofrivia​ @crushed-pink-petals​ @henrycavillfanpage​ @kirasmomsstuff​ @bluestarego​ @redhairedmoiraandtheliferuiners​ @safiras​ @honeychicana​ @agniavateira​ @henryfanfics101​ @fatefuldestinies​ @lifeofrileyp​
Olivia did her best to keep from laughing at the man slumped in front of her hearth. His reaction to her home, and to her, was one for the record books. Most people who crossed onto her land were curious, some talkative to the point of being obnoxious and some too scared to even say more than a hello for fear she would put them in an oven or make them part of the house. She wasn’t sure why grown men and women still held onto childhood fairytale nonsense, but in the stranger’s case, with his expression as if he’d seen a ghost, his first words were icing on the cake, and Olivia had to cover her mouth to keep the noise from escaping.
When sobered enough to maintain a straight face, Olivia stepped into the living room and crouched down so she was eye-level with her patient. “Hi. I’m Olivia. You passed out on my porch. What’s your name?” 
“H-Henry.” The man answered, his eyes still drooping from what Olivia could only suspect was a concussion. She’d have to task Gunnar with keeping him awake lest the fatigue take hold. 
“Henry. From the old Germanic meaning ‘Home Ruler’.” Olivia murmured more to herself than to anyone else, swirling the name around in her mind as though it were a vintage wine. “Do you remember what day it is?” She asked, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor next to him, one hand extending tentatively out to check his head for any more bumps now that he was sitting up somewhat. 
“It’s Monday. Worst day of the week,” Henry grumbled despite a soft smile thrown in her direction. “I don’t remember much of anything. Definitely don’t remember how I got here. Have you called the police?” He gave her the added information without Olivia needing to prod, Henry’s question making her smile. 
“No. Usually I wait until my visitors are coherent before making assumptions and calling for help.” Winking at him, she chuckled and helped him shift to a more comfortable position resting against her couch. 
“Don’t try and stand just yet. Pretty sure that with the angle your leg was at when you slumped into the doorway, you’re gonna be hurting if you try. So you don’t remember how you got to the bottom of the mountain?” Olivia asked as she stood once more, moving to the kitchen to start on breakfast and some peppermint tea for her guest. 
Monday was her day to include mending in her practice, and it seemed as though the universe was sending Olivia her greatest challenge yet. Discreetly, she saged the kitchen, paying special attention to the cup Henry would drink from, hoping that along with the mint, the sage would begin to cleanse him of any of the negativity his incident had brought through her door. 
Henry watched Olivia move about the kitchen, barefoot and so in tune with her surroundings that it made him wonder if she had made the house with her own two hands. Far more graceful than his ex, it seemed almost like she had a trail of stardust propping up every movement of her arms and legs. It may have been the concussion affecting his vision, but Henry was enthralled nonetheless. 
“Are you allergic to anything, Henry?” Olivia asked, breaking Henry’s reverie as she pulled eggs from the basket on the counter, butter from the dish, and a ham from the ice box. After a moment’s pause and the realization that she had no bread, Olivia grabbed grated potato from the ice box and placed it next to the ham, switching her original menu from an omelette to a breakfast hash for better balance. 
“Not last I checked,” he replied, his smile lopsided and boyish, Henry’s attention moving only briefly to Gunnar who’d made his thigh resting place for his fuzzy head, the dog huffing out a great sigh as though he knew his owner was in for a long night with their new guest.
Olivia finished off his tea with honey, adding a single lavender bud in the bottom to help with the wearing off of the adrenaline she could still feel coursing from his every pore. Whatever had happened, it had been bad enough to force him to walk all the way to her place injured, and no one did that unless they absolutely had to. 
“Here. Drink slow and just know you’re safe now. Nothing’s broken, or dislocated, but I don’t want you in a rush to leave here because the injuries you do have aren’t exactly minor. Do you feel dizzy?” She asked as she handed over the mug, noting the almost imperceptible tremor in his hands as he took the drink, another sign that if she didn’t get him fed, bathed, and into the downstairs bedroom soon, he’d be in a world of pain. 
Henry went to nod, but the room spun too hard, forcing him to take deep breaths in order to make it stop. When the wave of seasickness passed, he managed a weak smile and said, “Yes, the room’s still moving quite a bit.” 
Olivia resisted the urge to ruffle his curls, blinking it away and silently questioning herself on the matter, wondering if maybe she’d been too long removed from human contact. Going back to her stove, she checked on the hash and found it ready to plate. 
“Smells amazing,” Henry commented as she approached, two plates perched in one hand, a mug of strong coffee in the other. “Gunnar, scoot,” she spoke softly to the dog, getting a half-hearted growl before he jumped up onto the couch, wedging his head promptly between the two humans, intent on not only staying in the circle of conversation, but of seeing if there was anything worth eating on their plates. 
“Here,” Olivia grinned, giving Gunnar a piece of ham, swearing she could see him smile as he scarfed it down.
“He’s quite the character,” Henry chuckled, graciously accepting the fork Olivia offered before looking at the plate with an elated grin. 
“You don’t know the half of it,” Olivia replied, side-eyeing Gunnar, the dog simply huffing in response. 
“Looks amazing too. One final test left,” Henry joked, giving her a wink. 
Olivia admired the fact that, despite everything he seemed to have gone through given his injuries, he’d still managed to retain his humor. It was rare in her limited experience with men, and she found herself smiling around her first bite, appreciating the company of someone other than Gunnar for the first time in a long time. 
They ate in comfortable silence, occasionally sneaking glances at one another, Olivia in fear that Henry would fall asleep, and Henry in curiosity that this was the life Olivia had chosen for herself. He couldn’t understand why anyone, let alone a woman by herself, would choose to live in the middle of nowhere, off the grid, and with little more than a dog for company.
When they finished, Olivia made quick work of the plates, cleaning them before the remnants could dry and stick. Not having running water was tricky at times, but she always made it work, no matter the circumstances. 
“Okay, you stay put for a bit--stay awake--and I’m gonna fill the tub. We’ll get you cleaned up, then over to bed for some rest. Sound good?” Olivia asked, wrapping the shawl tighter around herself before slipping on her coat and stepping barefoot into her boots in preparation for bringing in the four buckets of water she’d need to heat over the hearth in order to fill the clawfoot tub that rested in the sunroom across from the kitchen. 
With the first bucket filled, Olivia dumped it in the sparkling tub before crouching down and lighting the firebox beneath the ceramic. She slowed her pace on the second, giving the fire enough time to do its work before another layer of frigid water was added. By the time she was on the fourth, the water was nearly too hot; the last bucket took it down low enough to get into, and by the time she got Henry in, it would be the perfect temperature for soaking. 
Olivia glanced quickly over the bundles that hung above the tub, picking a handful of Tujah, Wintergreen, Wormwood, and Mugwort, before adding Sage and Willow Bark to the mix. Satisfied with the amount of pain relief the plants would provide, Olivia moved back to the living room, concentration clear in her features. 
“Bend your knees. Tell me which one hurts worse,” she instructed, watching the confusion on Henry’s face turn to realization. Slowly, he did as asked, wincing when he bent his left leg. It was all the answer she needed. “Okay, I’m gonna pull you up, and when I do, put your weight on your good leg, got it?” With Henry’s nod, she extended both hands and waited for his grip to firm before pulling him towards her, catching his large frame just under his arms when he came up too fast. 
“Easy, easy,” she coaxed, slinging his left arm across her shoulders, Olivia making herself a veritable crutch for him to use. 
With nothing but natural light to illuminate the room, some of the bruising on Henry’s face became more apparent. “Hit the dash pretty hard, huh?” Clicking her tongue, she shook her head, grateful he’d made it as far as he had in more or less one piece. 
“You reckon it was a car accident?” Henry wondered, still having no recollection of how he came to end up on Olivia’s doorstep, nor of the events leading up to it. Whatever the cause, he was thankful he’d ended up in such experienced hands. 
“I’ll turn around. The cloth is for...well, you know....modesty, once you get in,” Olivia explained, needing to stay only so she could evaluate the injuries hidden by his clothing and make sure that he’d be able to get out of the deep tub without further causing harm to his already battered body. 
Henry took one look at the small square washcloth, and couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face. 
“Love, I hate to say it, but that? Won’t be enough for modesty.”
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thesilentinquisitor · 5 years
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About Evren
Basics
Name: Evren Tanith Anubis
Aka: Lady Anubis, Lady Inquisitor, the Emperor’s Jackal, the Silent Inquisitor, the Bone Witch. Aunt/Auntie Evren to many. Known to the Neverborn as the Fourteen-Eyed Jackal and the Crowned Devourer In Golden Chains. Evy or Eve to some.
Originally: Evren Tanith Burakgazi.
DOB: 21st December, 989.M1 (Sagittarius). Appears to be in her late twenties or early thirties.
Gender + Sexuality: Agender/demigirl. Poly-panromantic greysexual, with slight preference towards women when it comes to relationships and men when it comes to casual flings.
Origin: Liverpool, UK, Terra. Mixed Egyptian and Turkish, identifies as English.
Rank: [30k] Grand Inquisitor. Officially, she is the seeker of traitors and rebels, acting as a scalpel to cut out the cancer before it grows large enough to warrant calling in the Space Wolves or Night Lords. Unofficially, she seeks out artefacts, creatures, and people of great power and destructive potential and contains them, sometimes neutralising them or turning them to the use of the Imperium. These include Chaos or Warp-powered artefacts, xenotech, creations from before the Age of Strife, items from alternate universes, and things of stranger, more obscure origins. Her mission and means are highly secretive, with few beyond the Emperor and Malcador the Sigillite being aware of her true mission.
[40k] Loyalist Renegade/Inquisitor: After the Tomb Jackals were banished and wiped from the records at the end of the Heresy, they spent several centuries engaged in a Repentance Crusade in the Eye. However, they soon emerged and began engaging with the Imperium again, albeit under false names with false histories. Evren uses a fake Rosette to pass as an Inquisitor of Ordo Hereticus or Malleus.
History
Abilities:
Flawed Perpetual: Requires energy and biomass to regenerate lost body parts; she must eat an arm’s weight to get an arm back. Large healings leave her weak and sleepy from hours to days after; regrowing more than 50% of her bodyweight will cause her to fall into a coma. Will regenerate from the largest part remaining or the one with her head. Other parts die after an hour and are usually consumed to regain biomass. Never ‘dies’ but will lose consciousness if sufficiently injured. 
Living Cancer: Thanks to her mother’s hasty dying pact and Malal’s sick sense of humour, Evren can best be described as a sapient infectious cancer. Her cells are constantly regenerating and can revert back to stem cell level to allow her to regenerate limbs or organs. Her cells replace any foreign organic material inside or added to her body - grafted-on limbs will change into copies of what she lost - which means she was never able to bear a child, even before she removed the required organs. Given sufficient time and material, she can convert corpses into copies of her or, if a live cell sample is placed in a nutrient broth, grow a new body from scratch over a period of roughly two and half months.
Gamma-level Psyker: biomancy/physiokinesis/chloromancy, telepathy, telekinesis, kine-shields. Studied and mastered necromancy from the post-Heresy-era onwards. Has an incredibly precise control over her magic and a long list of memorised spells, though her range is middling to poor. Good at sensing fluctuations in the Warp.
Biomancy: Her first and strongest discipline. Though she was first trained as a healer, Evren has turned what she learnt to the causes of torture and interrogation, shaping flesh and bone like wet clay. She knows dozens of methods for instant killing, as well as how to keep a victim alive long after they should have died. Her speciality is the draining of energy from victims, leaving them dried-out husks.
Chloromancy: An offshoot of biomancy devoted to the control of plants. She can create fully-grown plants from seeds in seconds, even if said seeds are inside someone’s stomach at the time. Evren’s presence enlivens plants - grass lengthens in her footsteps and flowers bloom where she uses her magic.
Necromancy: At the price of another life, Evren can bring back the dead - either has barely-sapient drones or exactly as they used to be. Those too damaged or rotten to be brought back properly are made into corpse-constructs - shambling creatures made from mismatched parts, sometimes with dozens of eyes or arms for legs - or as disposable troops. Can also summon, banish, and sense ghosts or spirits - not via any natural ability but the use of charmed props and equipment.
Daemonology: Has studied the lore of daemons, so can summon, banish, restrain, and otherwise deal with daemons. After her pact with Malal, she can access their Chains of Binding, which can make most daemons her slaves.
Strengths/Weaknesses:
+ Biology, genetic manipulation, botany: Excels in the sciences of life. Can create new species of plants, animals, and bacterium in her lab, for everything from relieving famine or curing diseases to bioweapons. Has an almost instinctive knowledge of cell function and makeup. + Occult knowledge: Widely read in the nature of magic and the Warp. Has memorised many spells, curses, and cantrips; draws protective sigils and wards with ease. Knows secrets that would drive many insane, which has had an impact on her sanity. + Resistant to pain and torture: Both thanks to experience and her ability to use biomancy to shut down her pain receptors, she can resist most interrogation techniques. When put under great stress, she will put herself into a coma. + Stealth and terror tactics: Can become all but imperceptible thanks to a combination of magical and mundane techniques. Trained in tracking, assassination, sabotage, recon, torture and interrogation, intelligence gathering, and item/personnel retrieval. + Shapeshifting: Disguising herself as others, of any height, weight, or bodyshape, is easy for Evren thanks to her biomancy. She deeply dislikes changing her skin tone and avoid it whenever possible. ~ Evren has autism, what was formerly known as Asperger’s Syndrome. - Suffering mentally: Her traumatic life experiences and knowledge of the universe has given Evren a depression and PTSD, both of which seem resistant to treatment. She suffers from panic attacks, nightmares, and is psychologically triggered by enclosed spaces, the colour yellow (especially hooded robes), pregnant women, and the sight of certain religious artifacts. She uses various meditation techniques and marijuana for her anxiety. - Cannot see into the future through dreams, visions, or third-party methods: she cannot scry, cast runes, or use the Tarot. To seers, her future actions are shrouded in darkness. Some report hearing the roar of static and feeling the attention of something dark fall on them, heralded by seeing dozens of blank, white eyes in the darkness. Others see dozens of extremely disparate futures to the point of being overwhelmed. - ’Perpetual’ nature causes her body to reject all non-organic implants, such as the Black Carapace: organic implants and transplants can be accepted via biomancy. - Must have a source of energy/food or healing abilities slow. Must have a source of energy/food or her healing abilities slow until they cease to work entirely, due to the high energy demands of her body, leading to wounds remaining open even after an ordinary human would have healed. Starves at the rate of one unenhanced, though her enhancements allow her to consume many things considered inedible. - Weak to things that destroy cells/atoms, i.e. atom bombs, strong radiation, gauss flayers, fire, being thrown into the Sun. Deeply fears Necrons for this reason. - Highly affected by Blanks. Cause painful rashes/skin peeling, bleeding from the eyes/nose, intense migraines, and seizures depending on closeness/length of exposure. Her healing factor is deadened to the point where one could kill her with a knife and a bit of patience. - Bad at spelling and mental mathematics, to the point of dyscalculia.
Personality:
+ Loyal, protective, generous, loving, charitable, friendly, patient, determined, optimistic, intellectual, courageous, devoted, flexible, playful, artistic, imaginative, trusting, forgiving.
- Liar, braggart, snobbish, patronising, glutton, literal-minded, coddling, depressive, zealot, hoarder, hypocrite, merciless, sadistic, vengeful, spiteful, stubborn, nosy, impulsive, selfish, clingy, melodramatic.
- Evren’s motivation in life is the protection and wellbeing of humanity; to this end very few actions are considered ‘too much’ or ‘too far’. Like the SCP Foundation before her, she will inflict pain and death on hundreds or thousands to save millions or even billions. - Highly curious, she is full of questions at all times and loves to explore. - Friends and family mean a lot to her; she values her brothers’ happiness highly and possesses an undying loyalty to the Emperor, even if she often doubts him. - She still has great faith in humanity and believes that most people are good - Has a 'better the devil you know’ attitude, used to enduring horrible things if it meant keeping humanity safe from even greater horrors or even annihilation - She has a deep-seated disdain for religion and identifies as a misotheist, having never met a 'god’ worth worshipping. Secretly she dreams of toppling the gods and perhaps even taking a little of their power for themselves - she’s sure she would use it better. - Due to the fact it was the last time she felt 'normal’ or 'like herself’, Evren is obsessed with the culture of the 1980s to 2020s and has gone out of her way to preserve artifacts from that era, including her favourite popular media. She enjoys cartoons and anime. - Despite, or possibly because of, living through the millennia-long suppression of magic by the Foundation, Evren is openly, unapologetically proud of being a psyker and campaigns for the better understanding of her fellow magic-users. - Secretly, she is somewhat of a coward and flees from anything she is sure can kill her, though she once managed to explore a Necron tomb with her Legion. - Often overwhelmed by her duties, she is full of doubts and often second-guesses herself - Is a hopeless romantic, in love with love, but treats sex casually - to her, it’s just another fun thing two or more people who like each other can do together
Likes/hobbies: Magic and studying magic, archaeology, history, exploring ruins or nature, tomb-raiding and grave-robbing, botany and gardening, cartoons comics, horror books/movies, making clothes and jewellery, puzzles/riddles, cooking, coffee/recaff (the more elaborate, brighter-coloured, and highly-flavoured the better), Turkish and Egyptian cuisine, dancing, singing, playing the piano.
Hates: Chaos-worshippers, the Chaos gods, religion in general, not being able to know things, traitors and backstabbers, letting down a friend, enclosed spaces, going hungry, wasting food, offal, eye contact, people who take advantage, corrupt officials, people who don’t care for others, Astartes who look down on humans, almost all Commissars not named Ciaphas Cain, the fact she has to remove all her body hair to wear her bodyglove comfortably. After the Heresy, she despises Iron Warriors and Word Bearers to the point where she’ll drop anything to kill them; it’s her dearest dream to sacrifice Erebus and Kor Phaeron to Malal.
Looks:
Height: 5′7″ (original) / 8′3″ (current). Can and will change her height with biomancy.
Eyes:
Golden with hints of brown. Dark rimmed irises like a wolf (or a chicken). In the 40k era, they turn white with black sclera when channelling the power of Malal.
Wears kohl eyeliner in the ancient Egyptian style, eyeshadow in shades of blue or red with a streak of gold. Long lashes usually enhanced with mascara.
Well-groomed, s-shaped eyebrows with a ‘hook’.
Possesses a unique, prototype in-built ‘prey-sight’ that allows her to see into the infrared spectrum and track targets by body-heat. Unfortunately, it also reduces her ability to see detail such as writing/screens and people’s faces, turns the world into a blobby mess of colour, and gives her crippling migraines if she uses it for more than five minutes. Her pupils are dilated and her eyes appear glazed during use.
Has a transparent, protective nictitating membrane.
Skin:
Brown, vaguely russet. Blushes easily, freckles in strong sunlight thanks to the Jackal geneseed. Some moles – aka ‘beauty spots’ - across her body and limbs.
No scars or wrinkles save for a line of small, round scars along her spine and faint marks on her stomach as if something with five claws slashed her from ribs to hip.
Removes all hair below the neck with biomancy, to keep it from catching in her armour and bodyglove; without that, she has dark body hair and a ‘treasure trail’.    
Tattoos in gold ink of runes across her ribcage, arms to elbows, and on her stomach, spelling out incantations of warding and banishment; intricate magical diagrams and sigils cover her back from shoulders to hips. These act as protection against daemons, increase her magical abilities, and make her touch painful for any with above a certain amount of Warp energies inside them. Designed to ward off danger and interrogating Chaos worshippers, she cannot touch Sanguinius or Magnus with her bare skin without causing burning pins-and-needles tingling. Touching a daemon causes them severe pain, like touching a red-hot poker.
In the 40k era, she bears the brand of Malal on her stomach; the black-and-white skull mark only appears when she’s channelling the Outcast God’s power or consumed with thoughts of vengeance. At all other times, it’s invisible.
Sensitive to touch and ticklish, especially around the - ahem - chest.
Body:
Lean but muscular with long limbs/torso. Broad shoulders, slim waist, and powerful thighs. A six-pack and strong arms. Often compared to an Amazon or Valkyrie.
Disproportionate on close inspection, with her arms almost as long as her legs; can give an Uncanny Valley effect. Long stomach/spine between ribcage and hips; has three more lumbar vertebrae than normal. Long fingers, toes, neck.
Small chest - ‘small but perfectly formed’ as she sometimes says.
Highly flexible and double jointed, capable of impressive contortionist acts. Often cracks her joints to the point of sounding like an old man; is prone to aches and pains after too much flexing, which she eases with long baths.
Possesses all Astartes organs aside from the Mucranoid, Melanchromic Organ, Black Carapace, and Lyman’s Ear; her Sus-an Membrane has a malfunction that, whenever she activates it, plagues her hibernation period with horrific nightmares.
Lacks the Black Carapace and interface ports thanks to her Perpetual nature, so she syncs with her custom-made Power Armour (Mark IV variant, replaced by a Mark VI variant post-Heresy) via a series of needles that pierce her spinal cord.
Has several experimental organs not used in the final Astartes model: Angius Ligament (lets her stretch her jaws like a snake), Tanax Gland (produces a sticky, glue-like saliva that dries quickly on contact with air), Pera Organ (a second stomach), and Runco Node (a gland in the brain that, at times of great stress, releases hormones and chemicals to dull her feelings of pain, fear, and despair; in some circumstances, Evren goes into a trance-like state where she can only think of killing enemies and lacks morality, mercy, or a conscience. She never remembers her actions afterwards and the Jackals have sworn never to tell her).
Face:
Greatly resembles her Papa. They have the same eyes, brow, nose, and cheekbones. Diamond-shaped face with a strong jaw. Beauty spot near left eye.
Eight canine teeth; all teeth sharper and more pointed than normal.
Long, flexible tongue. Unsurprisingly, she’s also a very good kisser.
Wears a brown or berry-coloured blush and lipstick in maroon, berry, navy, or black.
Faceclaim: Jessica Penne.
Hair:
Black, glossy, falls in loose curls. Naturally thick and heavy. Soft and silky.
Shoulder-blade length and worn parted at her left side with a side-fringe.
Doesn’t often change her hairstyle, but she has experimented with various styles and lengths. Tends to go between straight and curly on a whim.
In battle, it’s braided and curled into a bun under her helmet.
Clothes:
Linen tunics, tight cloth trousers, long waistcoats, and long, fur-lined (often leather) coats. Soft leather knee-high boots, leather boots, flats, and ankle boots – never heels. Doesn’t wear socks. Wears black, white, gold, shades of red but usually crimson or maroon, and shades of blue from navy to turquoise.
Gold, copper, and bone accessories –  from her kills, both animal, xenos, and human. Usually hand-made. Loves rubies, aquamarine, lapis lazuli, coral, and sapphires. Likes Egyptian, jackal, space, floral/plant, and skull/bone motifs.
Wears lots of rings, bracelets/bangles, and necklaces when off-duty.
Has a large hat collection, with hats for every occasion, but she most often wears a wide-brimmed black hat with the brim tilted just so. Hat never falls off because it’s held in place with a hatpin topped with a silver skull.
Attitude/Bearing:
Due to her autism, she rarely makes eye contact, has dulled facial expressions/RBF, tends towards a monotone voice, and stims by twining her hands, playing with her hair, or pressing her palms together. Looks at people’s noses or ears, as a rule.
Stands and walks with almost unnatural grace and flexibility. Very light feet. Will casually bend her limbs backwards to reach something or turn her head like an owl.
Has a faint Liverpudlian accent and a deep voice; the accent is a deliberate affectation and vanishes during times of stress, replaced with a Terran accent.
Daemon-Princess of Malal Form Evren can ‘summon’ small parts of her daemon form into her human body, such as horns, claws, eyes, and wings; her most common trick is to summon wings, pure black and flat as paper, the feathers razor-sharp.
Soul: To psykers and daemons, her soul appears to be glowing with a bright golden light that can be almost blinding. There’s an impression of many wings, eyes, and teeth and a burning crown. Her tattoos appear as literal golden chains and the influence of Malal as a spreading darkness centred around her solar plexus.
Equipment
Mark IV/ Mark VI Corvus Power Armour: Adjusted to her disproportionate frame, the biggest change is around the joints of the armour; plating has been re-shaped and in some cases removed to allow a much higher degree of flexibility. Instead of the classic ‘beaky’ helmet it has the white jackal mask worn by the Legion’s command ranks. The inside is coated with runes and sigils of protection, purity, and banishment. The pockets and waist pouches are much bigger on the inside than the outside.
Force Sword (Asurludu): Designed and built for a user who places speed and flexibility over strength, longer and lighter than the usual model. The hilt and blade show some influence from ancient Turkic designs. The blade is decorated with an ‘evren’ - that is to say, the dragon from Turkic mythology - and the grip is bound in dark blue.
Daemon Sword: A black-bladed daemon sword with an ornate gold hilt, decorated with obsidians and moonstones, and a scabbard decorated with many eyes. Contains Snuffer Of Faith’s Candlelight, a Guardian of Contradictions who displeased Malal and was sentenced to eleven thousand year’s imprisonment within the sword. Screams and wails when wielded. Can and will devour mortal souls and daemons alike.
Various grenades: Krak, frag, flashbang, and ‘Banisher’ - produced and equipped solely by the Tomb Jackals Legion, they contain blessed salt, iron, silver, and holy water. Evren often forgets they’re there or to replenish her supply, to the annoyance of her armoury staff. She retorts that her throwing arm is so bad they’re all but useless anyway.
Dataslate: Connected to the Weigher’s central database and intranet, Evren can call upon thousands of years of information in seconds. She can also connect to others’ dataslates and send messages to their ships or voxes. It can fold in half like a book and be used in either orientation. Most files are in Esceapian or Turkish; anything sensitive is protected with instakill memetic agents that cause fatal seizures and brain haemorrhages in any who haven’t been through the right psycho-programming.
Combat Knife: Carved with runes, it has a devastating effect on daemons and other creatures of Chaos. The default combat knife wielded by all Tomb Jackals and Shadows.
Bolter: She once owned a master-crafted, artisanal-made Crusade-pattern Bolter that was destroyed just after the Heresy, during their Crusade in the Eye, and never replaced. Since then she’s owned a variety of firearms, either losing them or giving them away. Her current weapon, as of 40k, is a Godwyn Mark Vb Pattern.
Snacks and drinks: Since both magic and healing drain a great deal of her energy, it’s important for Evren to stay well-fed. She keeps a supply of high-protein, high-fat, and high-sugar rations in the form of bars and drinks, fortified with iron and calcium, as well as more normal foodstuffs such as jerky, candy bars, and bottles of water.
Inquisitors’ Rosette: Before the Heresy, this took the form of the Emperor’s personal aquila in gold, with the SCA symbol on its breast, as a badge or a pendent. In the 40k, Evren wields the rosette of the Inquisition when going undercover. Kyete acquired it, as well as the official papers and paraphernalia, from a Custodian who owed her a favour. The rosette takes the form of the stylised I bearing the winged skull of a jackal.
First Aid Kit: For minor wounds she can’t or won’t heal with her biomancy.
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fairyscribbles · 6 years
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Cupcakes and Fangs - Horror House (Suho, pt. 3) [Chronicles of the Wolf series]
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Hello Kiddos! Just a quick update before I go MIA again! I’ll answer to more asks tomorrow! ♥
If you need to refresh your memory, the last Junmyeon chapter is here!  If you like it, you can support it on ko-fi! ♥
-
Apparently, it could be very bad, you thought miserably as you jumped and screamed at another skeleton that rattled right in front of you.
Super bad.
You hopped away from the insane eyes that glowed at you from the darkness, figuring out which was worse - jumping on Junmyeon and him finding out that you lied about not being scared, or being so scared you end up looking even worse by passing out.
Your body seemed to decide on the latter because when the walls literally shook around you - makeshift bloodstained walls, as it was - you creeped as close as you could to Junmyeon and grabbed hold of his arm.
He turned to you with a raised eyebrow you could discern even in the dark. "You okay?"
Reluctantly, you shook your head, following him along as you passed a moaning girl in a white dress and keeping your eyes only as narrowly open as you needed for you to shadow after him.
You gasped when you felt him cover your clenched hands, patting them reassuringly as he urged you closer. "Don't worry. Come here."
He pushed you behind him, wrapping your arms around him from the back before holding them tight.
"J-Junmyeon!" You squeaked, but you couldn't dare to speak anything that would make him let you go. You just hoped the laws didn't work in here.
"Hey." A gruff voice came from behind a wall next to you and you squeaked, jumping up at its sound. Junmyeon squeezed your hands in comfort.
"That's a nice girl you have there." You buried your face in the back of Junmyeon's shirt, trying your best to think of happy places. Junmyeon's body shook with laughter.
"I know."
"I'll make you a deal- you throw her in this-" something suddenly swung open in front of you and you yelped. "Door, and I'll let you go. How about that?"
Junmyeon's eyes narrowed. "No thanks. I'm okay..."
"Ohh come on~" the voice hissed, and he felt you shiver against his back. "It'll be so much easier."
"Jun...myeon..."
He tried not to get too riled from the fear in your voice. Maybe if he just kept walking...
Junmyeon stroked your forearms in comfort before entwining your fingers with his to slowly quick up your pace. The faster you go, the quicker the two of you would be out there.
"Aaw, don't do this to me, man. You know how lonely I am? I promise I'll treat her right~..." Junmyeon couldn't help but laugh. As if he'd let some horror actor take his mate away from him.
"I'm relieved, but it's still a 'no'. I'm not giving her up that easy." He squeezed your arms in assurance as he led you past many horror props.
With each screeching actress that popped up, each moaning ghost you passed, and each pair of glowing scary eyes, you found yourself gripping Junmyeon's arms tighter. Ever so slowly, you crept even closer.
"J-Junmyeon..."
"Shh, I've got you," he said with a grin, leading you through a door that you really, really did not want to go through.
"No, no, no, no, let's not go through there!" You squealed, planting your soles into the ground and effectively stilling Junmyeon. He laughed, before he turned around.
"___. We have to go through there. It's the exit." He tried to reason with you calmly, but it didn’t work with you.
"B-but something will...definitely..."
"___." Your breath hitched when Junmyeon cupped your face and he tilted you up to look at him.
"There's nothing in this horror house that I can't protect you from. Believe me, the sooner we'll get out, the sooner we'll be able to do something more fun."
You whined softly, but Junmyeon just smiled and tucked your arms securely around his, his hand still patting yours for reassurance. "Come on. We're almost there."
You pressed yourself as close to him as you could. "O-okay."
You had to trust him. You had to.
And with that chant, your eyes shut tight and your head buried in Junmyeon's back, you were able to get past the last few feet of the horror house, where Junmyeon led you out through a rusty door that creaked with its every movement. You shielded your eyes from the sun, and reluctantly moved away from him because of the threat of the guard seeing you, and when he turned to look at you, you chuckled nervously.
"Well...I, for one, wasn't scared at all." You told him in an almost serious tone.
Junmyeon looked at you with his eyes big and wide for a long moment before he burst out into boisterous laughter. "Oh, really? So you were just holding on to me because..?"
Your smile was almost coy, something you weren't used to feel on your face.
"Maybe because you're nice to hold on to..."
Junmyeon's eyes slanted, and you almost wished you hadn't said it. Almost. Because soon after Junmyeon was smirking as well, and the look annoyingly attractive on him.
"Well you're more than welcome to do it anytime..."
Inwardly, you squeaked, but you were glad to be able to keep your composure on the outside, merely casting your eyes to the side and shrugging. "Maybe..."
Junmyeon laughed, shaking his head.
"Stop it. I heard about the prohibition, and you're making it impossibly hard for me to abide the rules." That made the butterflies in your tummy flutter. Oh god.
Was he this charming all the time?
"Come on. Would you like to go play some games? Or?" Junmyeon frowned when he looked at the setting sun.
"Night is coming. Maybe I should escort you home."
"No!" Your face went beet red. "I mean... n-no. There's still daylight left... If... you have nowhere else to be, that is..."
Junmyeon chuckled. "Are you kidding me? Somewhere more important than being with you?" He caught himself, and Junmyeon rubbed the back of his neck because maybe he was coming off a little too eager. But he was happy to see that you didn't seem to mind, if your embarrassed smile was anything to go by.
"Then... games..?"
And games it was. You passed every single stand, and at every single stand, Junmyeon won. He seemed to see every time your eyes twinkled as something caught your interest, and in the end, when the fair was closing up, you were walking home with a big teddy bear under your arm, Junmyeon holding the same one with ease on his shoulders, much like someone would carry a small child.
You walked slowly, your steps tiny. You didn't want this day to end. It was so perfect, you clicked with him so instantly you didn't want to part. You walked silently, side by side, close to each other but not close enough to touch. You were glad Junmyeon was holding onto the bear because otherwise his hand would be tantalizingly hanging at his side, tempting you to grab it.
Reluctantly, you slowed to a stop.
"Well...this is my house."
Junmyeon surveyed the outside of your place, smiling. "Looks nice."
You shrugged. "It's nothing spectacular, but it's home... So..."
Junmyeon turned to you, trying to hold his smile in place. "So... I guess, this is good night."
You couldn't help but giggle at the terminology. "Not goodbye?"
"Not unless you plan to never see me again." The thought actually had his smile fading quickly.
"Then good night it is," you murmured. "Thank you, Junmyeon."
"For what?"
"For tonight..."
Junmyeon smiled down at you, the soft curve of his lips making butterflies flutter in your stomach. With a big blush spreading over your cheeks, you looked around to see if the coast is clear.
No guards on patrol. The street was abandoned, save for the two of you.
And so you took the slight leap of faith and you reached up to kiss Junmyeon's cheek.
Junmyeon had no time to react. All he could do was bring a hand up to brush the tips of his fingers over the tingling part of his skin where his mate's lips had touched. Just briefly, too lightly.
You took a few cautionary steps back, face an adorably bright red. "Um..."
Junmyeon felt his smile expand, and he thought he could've rivaled Chanyeol's smile at this point.
"Thank you for the great time. I...really had fun." You spoke shyly, any other place seemed to be better to look at than Junmyeon at the moment.
"If this is what I get for taking you out, I might make it a daily custom." Junmyeon told you, trying hard to control his knees from bouncing up and down. Shit, he never felt more giddy in his life and when he saw the blush spread over your cheeks, he just wanted to litter kisses all over then.
'No, Junmyeon,' he reminded himself. 'Control.'
He had to resist, especially considering your town's open aversion to any affection in public places. He didn't want to get you in any trouble. So there was definitely no way he could grab you and shower you with kisses the way he wanted to. But he couldn't fight the other strong impulse. "When can I see you again?"
You faltered, then smiled. A small, unsure quirk of your lips. "You're sure you want that?"
Junmyeon nodded. "Of course."
His voice was so sure and also a little confused. As if he didn't understand why you thought he didn't want to see you again.
"Ah, well, I'm pretty sure you will be very busy with your trainings..." Junmyeon almost wanted to ask what trainings you were talking about, when it came back to his mind.
"Ah, don't worry about that. I'm sure I can find some time for you." He smiled and it made the butterflies flutter. Oh god, why was this man so perfect?
"O-oh...okay, well, next week there should be a new play...what do you think about going there on Friday?"
He smiled brilliantly. "Sounds great."
You gasped, like you'd expected him to refuse. "O-okay..!"
Junmyeon looked beyond your shoulder to your door, frowning. He didn't want to leave; he didn't want you to go inside. He wasn't ready for it to end just yet. And suddenly, he understood how Jongin felt before Yunyoung had agreed to marry him, how Sehun feels with Hyeri... and Jongdae, and Minseok.
God, how did they manage this?
"Well, I'll pick you up at seven?" Junmyeon asked, wiping his hands against his pants, as if it would cure the itch he felt to reach out for you, especially when you looked so freaking adorable and lovable. The day he finally gets to hold you for himself...he might actually just never let go.
"I think that's okay." You agreed with a small smile after thinking about it.
"It starts at eight, so that gives us just enough time." Junmyeon nodded and his heart clenched. Here it comes.
"Alright then. You should...probably head on inside..." he almost wanted to hit himself for telling you that.
"You need to rest." You nodded with a smile and a big blush across your cheeks and Junmyeon almost couldn't resist.
"Be sure to lock your doors, okay?"
You took the first reluctant step forward. "Okay..."
"Good night, ___..."
You stuck your key in the lock, turning the doorknob slowly and cracking the door just slightly. "Good night, Junmyeon..."
He smiled gently, watching you slip inside. Fighting hard with himself not to follow you in. "Good night..." he repeated uselessly.
He stood there until he heard that click of your lock, making sure you were safe. Knowing that his mate was so far from him, so alone...it made him really not want to go home.
Especially when he caught your scent. It was beautiful, full of freshness and everything he loved, but there was a shadow of something...sinister. Something that he not quite wanted to smell on you, but he did. Something that made you like this but he didn't know what and it was driving him crazy.
But he couldn't stay any longer. He felt the contacts dissolving in his eyes and if he got caught in front of your house, you'd become a suspect.
So with a heavy heart, he dragged himself away. He forced his feet to move, one in front of the other as he fought the urge to look back. He didn't want to leave. How was he supposed to leave?
With a grunt, he just gritted his teeth and took off at a run, not caring if he went just a bit too fast.
If he was gonna force himself to leave, it had to be quick.
How were Jongdae and Minseok doing this? For days even.
Another snarl ripped through his chest and the second he was out of the capitol, he ripped through his form and took off at a sprint, barely able to hold in the painful howl of an alpha leaving his mate alone.
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