#v1lsxe

ITEMS ✶ HOGWARTS

⌗ a coin pouch with no end ; it takes money directly from your vault. (perfect for when you just need that new quill from flourish and blotts.)

⌗ a field guide ; like in hogwarts legacy, it records spells, creatures, and artifacts you learn about in detail. like a diary, but much cooler.

⌗ an enchanted hairbrush ; bad hair days? not anymore. this brush works faster than any charm—and it doesn’t yank.

⌗ a potion that sharpens focus ; have an upcoming test you’re not ready for? worry not! studying with this efficient potion will ensure you an O grade. (warning: people might start asking you for study tips when they see your O grades. use at your own risk)

⌗ a mood-matching candle ; bright pink for excitement, deep blue for calm—handy for creating the perfect atmosphere or warning people to tread lightly !

⌗ a snack pouch with infinite snacks ; the real MVP during late-night study sessions and those never-bloody-ending train rides to hogwarts.

⌗ a spellbook that adjusts spells to your level ; it knows your learning style and gives you suggestions and tips to make spells easier to master - think of it as your personal tutor—minus the lectures when you accidentally set something on fire.

⌗ a quill that changes color ; because highlighting is overrated, and rainbow notes are just more fun.

⌗ a floating candle lantern ; follows you around and provides light in dark spaces. useful for late-night reading or sneaking into the forbidden section.

⌗ a handwriting charm quill ; say goodbye to illegible scrawls and hello to essays that actually impress. this quill will ensure your handwriting stays neat, no matter how rushed you are !

⌗ a plant-care pendant ; alerts you when your magical plants need watering or pruning. (even the pickiest venomous tentacula will thrive under your care with this little lifesaver.)

PERKS OF BEING A METAMORPHMAGUS. ♡♡︎♡︎

or: things i fully plan on doing the moment i shift, because if you can change your face at will and don’t cause at least a little bit of mischief, what are you even doing?

some people are born with destiny carved into their palms. me? born with shifting skin and a flair for dramatics. the metamorphmagus thing wasn’t a reveal—it was a problem from the moment i realised i could change my face to match my brother’s and get him blamed for everything.

growing up, it meant playdates that ended in existential crises (sorry to the cousin who met three versions of me in one day), family portraits that had to be charmed into stillness, and way too many mornings where my mum would shout “violeta, stop giving the staff heart attacks and put your real face on.” i didn’t. it was too fun.

imagine a child with absolute freedom over their appearance and not a shred of shame. one week i had emerald hair that glowed under moonlight, the next i gave myself fangs and told my little brother bedtime stories about being part vampire. he still checks his neck sometimes.

at hogwarts, no one knows. or at least, they shouldn’t. i keep it private, a secret stitched into my skin. there’s power in people underestimating you.

still… some days, when i’m feeling a little extra bored, i shift into mcgonagall and tell people there’s an essay due next period. the fear in their faces is priceless.

the perks?

⟡ instant disguise, useful for mischief and espionage

⟡ never having a bad hair day because you can just fix it.

⟡ getting into clubs at 16 by making yourself look like you’re 23 (not recommended, i’ll do it anyway)

⟡ perfect for fashion. match your hair to your outfit? yes. elongate your lashes, shift your freckles, turn your eyes purple for the drama of it all? yes.

⟡ copying pandora’s face and pulling the "guess which one’s the real one" stunt until she hexes me: worth it.

anyways i present to you my guardians of the galaxy script:

i went into the theater thinking the movie was gonna be bad and came out in love with their world. you’ll hear more from me soon.

a bunch of sad, emotionally constipated nobodies who accidentally saved the galaxy once twice countless times now (you're welcome).

VIOLETA SOLÉ , BIRDIE

runaway royal turned weapons whiz. solo smuggler with a knack for sabotage, punk, and surviving shit she shouldn’t. rocking pink hair, a sharper tongue, and a soft spot buried under six layers of sarcasm. found herself in the kyln and left with a crew of galactic morons—still not sure if that was an upgrade. definitely didn’t eat the last pack of oreos.

“technically it was an explosion, but in my defense, i didn’t know pressing that button would do anything.”

SOUNDTRACK: paranoid, black sabbath ⋆ should i stay or should i go?, the clash ⋆ psycho killer, talking heads

PETER QUILL , STAR-LORD

legendary outlaw, he says.

thinks he’s the main character. raised by pirates, emotionally stunted by 80s pop culture. flirts like it’s a full-time job. deep down? just a kid who misses his mom. knows way too many obscure earth references.

“dance off, bro!”

SOUNDTRACK: come and get your love, redbone ⋆ i ran (so far away), a flock of seagulls ⋆ hooked on a feeling, blue swede

GAMORA , THE DEADLIEST WOMAN IN THE GALAXY

adopted by a warlord. turned assassin. betrayed him. has trust issues and a mean right hook. if looks could kill, hers do. secretly the mom friend. don’t tell her.

“if one of you calls me mom one more time, i’m throwing you all into space.”

SOUNDTRACK: bad reputation, joan jett ⋆ barracuda, heart ⋆ seven nation army, the white stripes

REMUS LUPIN , NOCTURNE

shadow-born, void-touched, soft-eyed war machine. always tired. his power terrifies even him—so he wields it gently. but cross someone he loves and you’ll find out how many arms the dark has. sirius’s partner in crime (and in literally everything else).

“can you just shut the fuck up? thanks.”

SOUNDTRACK: the killing moon, echo & the bunnymen ⋆ starman, david bowie ⋆ bang a gong (get it on), t.rex

SIRIUS BLACK , MAVERICK

guns, knives, bite marks, and charm. looks like a rockstar, fights like a street dog. no powers, just pure unfiltered chaos and loyalty. will flirt mid-fight and still win. brings snacks to battles. don’t ask where from.

“i don’t need a weapon. i am the weapon. but like—pass me that one anyway, it looks sick.”

SOUNDTRACK: i wanna be your dog, the stooges ⋆ sympathy for the devil, the rolling stones ⋆ dude looks like a lady, aerosmith

DRAX , THE DESTROYER

revenge-fueled warrior with the body of a god and the social skills of a wet sponge. takes everything way to literal. will punch first and never ask questions. surprisingly great at metaphors now (he’s working on it).

“if someone insults you, just rip out their spine. then you don’t have to talk about your feelings.”

SOUNDTRACK: the immigrant song, led zeppelin ⋆ another one bites the dust, queen ⋆ i wanna be sedated, ramones

MANTIS , THE EMPATH

looks like a cinnamon roll, could knock you out with a single touch. empath with the heart of a poet and the social skills of a stunned baby deer. unhinged in the best way. emotionally devastating observations delivered in the softest voice.

"you feel so much. it’s beautiful. and very stupid."

SOUNDTRACK: dreams, fleatwood mac ⋆ strange magic, electric light orchestra ⋆ disintegration, the cure

ROCKET , RACCOON

a raccoon? no. a genius-engineered weapons specialist with aggression issues and zero filter. talks big. shoots bigger. mess with his tech and you’ll wake up duct-taped to a bomb.

“why talk when you can blow shit up and then talk?”

SOUNDTRACK: back in black, ac/dc ⋆ no sleep till brooklyn, beastie boys ⋆ sabotage, beastie boys

GROOT , just… GROOT

he is groot.

“i am groot.”

SOUNDTRACK: mr. blue sky, electric light orchestra ⋆ lean on me, bill withers ⋆ i am… i said, neil diamond

　#marauders desired reality. .✶


　 ⌗. a cortés, if you can believe it. 
violeta cortés was never meant to blend in. with family crests etched into every wall of monteluz manor and enough generational wealth to fund half the wizarding world, she grew up amidst grandeur, tradition, and just the right amount of weird. the cortés motto, “con sangre, por sangre,” rings through the halls—not as a war cry, but a vow of unshakeable loyalty. family first, always. blood as bond, not as badge.

in her sixteen years of life, violeta has always been always a bit odd, much like her family—clever in the way that unnerves professors, loyal in a way that ends in hexes, always dreaming awake, and so fiercely independent it aches. fiercely protective and full of unexpected softness, she’s not trying to change the system.
she’s just going to outsmart it.

at hogwarts, she’s a few weeks shy of being a seventh-year gryffindor with a look that changes on a whim (thanks to her secret status as a metamorphmagus) and a rabbit animagus form nicknamed skipper—a detail only her closest know, and one she became for someone who mattered. she plays chaser with terrifying precision and a wicked grin, brews like a prodigy, and tell you exactly how the goblin rebellions shaped modern curse theory. just... maybe don’t bring binns if you don’t want a full-blown rant.

when she’s not perfecting an alchemy theory or blowing off steam by morphing into mcgonagall for a laugh, she’s likely curled up near the black lake, a book, and her soulmate by her side. that soulmate? pandora rosier, her platonic ride-or-die. hurt her and you’ll be dealing with violeta's wand. and her fists.

relationships? complicated. actually, not at all. her love story with remus lupin started slow and sweet, but life has a funny way of expanding, especially when sirius black is in orbit. somehow, the three of them just... fit. what started as quiet stargazing turned into something sacred. it’s public that she’s with remus. it’s private that sirius is too. some magic is meant to be kept.

　　　　behind the red & gold curtain...

most people see a polished gryffindor princess, a textbook prodigy with killer aim and a sharper tongue. but in between classes and chaos, she’s laughter in the dormitory at 2AM. she’s sneaking into the kitchens with pandora for churros and chocolate. she’s jumping with reckless joy alongside potter and mckinnon in the rain after a quidditch win, and humming spanish lullabies in the library while drafting a ten-page DADA essay in her sleep.

I WILL BE HERE UNTIL I DROWN

𝓿ioleta. 7teen. bolivian shifter.

raised by music.

<𝟑 .ᐟ leopard print，cherry coke，music，jean jackets， hammocks， the color red，wes anderson films，pink hair，thrift stores，pinterest boards，red lipstick， vaping (oops)，running，daydreaming 24/7.

. ⭐︎ . cosmic dancer / rocket man! / mr. fantasy

⠀.   ⋆ ･˳ ⠀⠀⠀⠀. ⋆  . ⋆･. ⠀⠀˳ . ⋆⠀⠀. ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀#2008

variants. (except i need to watch more films)

francis whitman, the darjeeling limited. ash, fantastic mr. fox. alice, alice in wonderland. jess mariano, gilmore girls. bruce banner, marvel. klaus baudelaire, a series of unfortunate events. rogue, x-men. lane kim, gilmore girls. michael, the good place. johnathan byers, stranger things. mystique, x-men.

✴︎ I’M A CRAZY DIAMOND!!

: under the milky way, the church. brain damage, pink floyd. un osito de peluche de taiwán, los auténticos decadentes. until i drown, tears for fears. no reces al sol, lou-kass. shine on you crazy diamond i-v, pink floyd.

everything is always about music. what does your soul sound like? electric warrior, t.rex. i’m a cosmic dancer too!

currently on repeat; powerman, the kinks. sexy sadie, the beatles. monkberry moon delight, paul mccartney. mambo sun, t.rex.

✷ los 𝓬ortés.

you don’t meet a cortés—you encounter them. they arrive like summer storms and ancient omens. you feel it when they enter a room.

the cortés family is the kind of old that doesn’t brag about being old. they don’t need to. their history is sewn into the tapestries of monteluz manor (sunlight mountain, if you need the translation), a sprawling estate on a golden hill in spain where every corridor hums with stories no one’s brave enough to ask about. family portraits whisper. the chandeliers remember. picture saltburn, but spanish, and with more secrets.

the family crest—leopard mid-pounce, raven wings spread, dagger down the center, moon above, vines curled like whispers—hangs over every fireplace. every door. every mirror. you’re never not being watched by legacy.

motto? con sangre, por sangre.

with blood, for blood.

they mean it, too. and this isn’t about purity. it’s about loyalty. blood as bond. you cross one cortés, you get the whole house. and they’ll do it smiling.

they host galas that turn into legends. parties where the masks are literal, the dancing lasts until dawn, and the guest list is impossible to track. violeta’s grandfather, the current patriarch, is famous for his birthday costume ball—a decadent, gleaming chaos of duels, flamenco, and bottomless goblets of glowing wine. the man’s got a cane tipped with obsidian and a laugh that could charm a sphinx.

traditions run deep. when a cortés child is born, a blade is begun. if it’s a girl, the mother starts it. a boy, the father. they craft it over years—slow, personal work—and hand it over on the child’s twelfth birthday. always a dagger. always silver. always with a story etched into the hilt. no one talks about what happens if a blade’s ever needed. no one has to.

they’re not all the same—some lean darker, some softer, some wild. but every cortés knows who they are, and who they stand with.

they walk with pride, kiss cheeks with charm, and will burn your world down without smudging their lipstick or tie.

to be a cortés is to laugh a little too loud. to charm and unsettle. to walk barefoot through magic older than death, with honey on your tongue and a knife at your back. to know the rules and break them while looking like you made them.

they are the whisper at the gala. the last name on everyone’s tongue. the family you should never cross, but always want to know.