#puckishfool

         It was the fall that killed him, they said. As he watched the paramedics wheel the body of his younger brother away from the cliff side, Mylo suspected otherwise. He knew the truth and it infuriated him. However, one very naive partner later and a report signed, his sibling was ruled as an accidental death. They were too inexperienced to realise that the wounds inflicted upon his body were made by wytch-hunters, and not by the jagged rocks below. Would the truth make any difference, however? It was another of his kind eradicated, after all. Another victory in their eyes. Mylo refused to step aside and do nothing; he needed to speak with his brother and find out what exactly happened -- but most importantly, who was responsible. It was how, a few days later, the necromancer found himself breaking into Spellman Mortuary.

          “Frater...” The one word was full of heartbreak at the sight of his sibling. Still, lifeless; he was simply another body to prepare for the loved ones he left behind. Out of those who survived the events of Shademarsh, he was the only one to forgive humans. He even formed a relationship with one of them, and that was the saddest part. In the end, it was his kindness that killed him. He became blind to the danger, believing that his history with wytch-hunters was over. But the past would always resurface, and now he was lying in the middle of a morgue. “What did they do to you, Ellis? You, of all people, had no right to be treated like this.” 

          “But here I am,” he continued, standing next to his brother and brushing his fringe away, the forehead underneath freezing to the touch. Dry eyes stared up at him, a face once full of joy now a shrunken mess; they did everything they could to make his last moments truly miserable. “Your brother, Mortis. I need you to come back to me -- reach through the darkness and follow my voice.” Placing his palms on either side of Ellis’ head, the necromancer reverted to his mother tongue as he repeated an incantation; he could feel a sliver of energy being returned, trying to pull him forward. And then he heard it. His name. “There you are! I can hear you, loud and clear. Will you wake up for me? Please, Ellis, I need to know who did this--”

           Mylo suddenly turned his head in the direction of the staircase, murky-grey eyes settling on the form standing there. In his surprise, the connection was severed and he could no longer speak to Ellis. A protective arm was thrown over his brother’s body as the necromancer stared at the other male, silently challenging him to try anything. Overhead, the light flickered as Mylo attempted to calm down, a whirlwind of emotions clouding his ability to compose himself. But he was frustrated. It had been a very tiring week, and he wanted to finally give his brother closure by tracking down the wytch-hunter and -- and what? An eye for an eye? A justifiable response, surely!

           “Don’t take him away from me,” it was meant to be a collected request, but it sounded more like a threat. 

Ambrose scolding at a distance.

@puckishfool     //     meme

❝  OH  ,  AMBROSE  ,  I'M  SO  SORRY  .  ❞

sabrina  is  instantly  sympathetic  .  she  knows  loss  far  ,  far  too  well  for  such  a  young  heart  .  it  aches  for  him  .  she's  been  there  ,  too  .  she  rises  from  her  seat  ,  extending  her  arms  ,  &  after  a  moment's  hesitation  she  hugs  her  cousin  .  it  sounded  like  he  needed  it  .

His hands were unsteady as they tried to fix the buckles of his satchel. It was his nerves, they were running high and poor Norman had no control over himself. Slowly he was losing grip on the sound of her voice and the way that she smelled. He had to do something, anything to right the wrong of it all.

The idea had come to him as he tore through the books organized on his shelves in frustration and panic. One of his older occult ones had fallen onto the floor, pages fluttering free of the binding with the violence of his outburst. RESURRECTION was the word that struck him like a slap to the cheek.

                          ❝ Wake up, you lazy boy! ❞

As the voice broke through his chaotic mind his body flinched outwardly, and then Norman realized that he was lost in his thoughts while standing on the stairs of the Spellman funeral home. Someone had opened the door and he quickly moved out of the way to let them pass and avoid physical contact.

            ❛ I’m sorry, pardon me. ❜

kiss memes       /       012       /       almost kiss

visiting the home of sabrina spellman was not an uncommon occurrence for him, although for being the very best of friends, he’d hardly seen an inch of the estate beyond the walls of her bedroom.      from stealing comic books at cerberus and acting them out, to disclosing their deepest darkest secrets or the from-afar surface level crushes they’d fantasize from math class, any afternoon spent was a good one.      it was of his upmost gratitude, seeing as being home was jughead’s least favorite place to be. 

it was an easy-going autumn evening when the duo had planned a sleepover, with ‘brina supplying a copious amount of junky snacks and smoothies.      hours had passed by, filled with laughter and endless entertainment; until, however, she’d succumbed to sleep whilst the jones son suffered within his own insomnia ━━ and there’s only so much you can do on a cellphone before curiosity kills the cat.      sock clad feet maneuvered cautiously in an effort to avoid creaky floorboards, desiring only to satisfy boredom.      he’d made it successfully out of the doorway and a few feet into the hall before slamming into a stranger, however ━ and sending the both of them into a toppling, sleepy mess on the floor.      jughead’s blood poured cold in his veins, the wind wiped clear from his lungs.       his face was mere inches from that of the boy below him, presumably the cousin sabrina had mentioned in passing. 

Injury Meme || ACCEPTING || @puckishfool

The young witch staggered a moment, her energy seemed drained after a simple spell. One that she had done in the past and had no problem. The witch’s green hues looked down at her hands seeing them shake. No this was wrong, something was wrong with her. Her mind tried to remember all the spells she had done recently and who she had been with.  

| @puckishfool​ | The Road Sentence Starters ( accepting )

                 Karmichael lifted his head to look at the other, pursing his lips and pausing in contemplation. Remember anything… he remembered so much. Too much. It was all there inside his head, scenes flashing as the synapses in his brain fired in rapid succession. Did he remember the man who had just died. Yes. And well. He let out a breath slowly, parting his lips to let the air pass, and scratched his nails against the tops of his nice black pants.