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Armed with her muggle camera, Darcy walked down the streets of Diagon Alley, waiting for inspiration to hit. She had been wanting to photograph the wizarding world through her muggle camera, she thought that it could be a cool exhibit idea if it ever took off. Wizards were so used to their moving pictures and ever since Kieran had bought her this camera she had been wanting to find a way to bridge the gap between her world and her husbands, even if it would take a long time for her to open up to him about what she was doing. She still felt a twinge in her chest when she thought about all of the lies she told him every day. The longer that they went without her confessing what she was, the more guilty and unsure she felt. Would he still love her if he knew that she had been lying to him for a year? She couldn’t be sure. And she didn’t want to lose him. So she kept quiet.
Stopping in her tracks, she was struck by the beauty of the sunlight hitting off one of the crystals being sold at one of the little stalls. Raising her camera up, she clicked a photo, hoping that it would turn out the way she hoped. Suddenly realizing someone was watching her, her head whipped up and she offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry, am I in your way?” She asked. “I just had to take a photograph, I’m hoping that it turns out.”
＊ wilkes watches carefully; half with a condemnatory curiosity that blooms from her pupils, half with a contradicting nonchalance that rolls off of her shoulders in cool waves. she doesn’t find beauty common, she’s learned, in wilkes’ experience, it comes rare. true, pure beauty is often hand in hand with rarity, walking a path that is seen by very few people. their apprehension of beauty stems from a soured lens of the world – what began rose - tinted frames slowly grew green with rot and restlessness, just peeking into the edge of their vision and giving everything a sickly tint that poisons everything they once thought was beautiful. darcy’s observation of the crystal ( the one very rudely blinding wilkes ) makes them stall –– she just had to take a photograph, because she saw it, because it was beautiful, because [ . . . ] wilkes can’t come up with another explanation and for some reason, darcy finding something beautiful shocks them with a striking shade of envy.
❛ no, you’re not in my way. ❜ they finally say after a beat. their eyes dart from the witch to the stall, fingers reaching out to run over the crystal closest. ❛ beautiful, aren’t they? ❜ wilkes’ asks.
( * ── 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥 drawing closer , aleyna slowly walks down diagon alley observing buildings that will soon be adorned with decorations . admittedly , she does not enjoy the festival ── not when expectations weigh heavy upon shoulders kept alive by blood of silver & gold . grace woven into limbs , indifference painted across features that wish to smile , she recalls being a child and longing to run as hands held her back and urged her to keep her shoulders straight . she spots a known figure and cannot help herself , however ── approaching them to make conversation , pushing herself to defeat her introversion in the name of polite socialization . a lady . ❝ enjoying the preparations ? i have to admit , i’m looking forward to buying something from señor domínguez’ new collection . yourself ? enchanted candles or pumpkins ? ❞
＊ she is not as much of a stranger to the celebration as she wants to be. wilkes, despite her inability to admit it, has spent more time here than she has at home ( is it even really home anymore, if there are no plans to ever return? can she even remember it the way she thinks she can? ) and has attended this festival before she could understand what it really was. the very first memory that wilkes has of this festival is painted in shades of pale orange and ruby reds, colors that bled into each other and brought their counterparts to life. it was the first time that they looked at the color of blood in celebration instead of disdain. soon, this place will be filled with the colors of autumn ( and all that comes with it, power, death, rebirth ) and in her opinion, it will look better. ❛ i actually find myself more enchanted by the idea of celebration, instead of spending. ❜ they remark. ❛ though, i can’t say i ever look forward to buying anything, anymore – i’ve just already got everything i’d ever want. you know what i mean, don’t you, macmillan? ❜
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ϟ ━ was that WI “WILKES” KI-SUN around the leaky cauldron ? they disapparated before i could approach them ! what a pity, for they are cerebral and poised, but maybe it's best to keep my distance because they are also minacious and rancorous. i remember that they were a SLYTHERIN back in school but have since made a name for themselves as an unspeakable. if this alleged war came knocking on their door, it is supposed that they would FIGHT FOR THE DARK LORD. ( demi woman & they + them, she + her / moon ga - young / twenty four / pureblood ).
hi, all! i’m cc and i’m excited to be here and writing wilkes, who is a demon – but a dramatic, sexy demon. i’ll be reaching out to plot with everyone eventually and again, i’m just super happy to be here <3 beneath is a bare bones biography + some wanted plots i’d love to write !
extra links: pinterest, task one ( stats ), application
trigger warning: blood mention.
women like you don’t have the privilege of heroism. you are not carved from sea foam and rose petals, you are instead made of every thorn and blazing fire that brings as much punishment as it does freedom. your mother brushes your hair when you are as young as five and she teaches you of your duties in this world. not only are you an heiress, you are made of magic and prowess that your family has always held. you will always tip toward the side of magic, but if you choose to turn your back on your true heritage, you are still saddled with the responsibility of being your father’s daughter. some women are born into silk and delicacy, you are taught from the moment you claw your way into world how to land on your feet. you are not given the opportunity to grow into a rose –– and in the grand scheme of life and death, your only role is terror.
with that knowledge, you are torn away from your family before you can ever be given the same opportunities as your cousins. you are better than that school, settled into enemy land, filled with peers that won’t challenge you. pushed out of the arms of safety and love ( cold, harsh love from your mother – warm, enveloping love from your mother ), you land in the palms of a woman with eyes so blue they scare you in the dead of night. you are to attend hogwarts, instead, the finest institute in the world. in korean script, you write to your parents and stain parchment with tears that you shouldn’t cry and you beg them to bring you home – or at least, send you north. what’s so wrong with durmstrang? you write. what’s so terrible about the beauxbatons academy? you ask. you aren’t given an answer that you can understand at your young age, but one day you will understand that the people here fight the same battles as you do back home. their views align with yours and it is better for you to be knee deep in war, it will only prepare you for what will await you at home.
hogwarts knows you as an english name that your parents refuse to learn. i chose this name for you, do you not want it? your father writes and you send a letter back with a sneer –– this is the name i choose for myself, do you not appreciate how i carved myself anew? you take most after your mother, though they do not know her. they only know you – cruel, caught in a continuous lament, always lurking behind a barbaric event. you are an omen of a girl, a terror of a beast and you are only known for what you do and what you lack ( empathy, sympathy, kindness ). but, you are the sole result of sovereignty – your veins are pure and filled with magic that serves you well. women like you don’t have the privilege of a choice, after all, and when you are swayed to sides, it is obvious which you will fall under. beauty is cruel, purity is evil.
you struggle after your graduation – you teeter between east and west. in the east, your family awaits your return. there is a life for you in the budding city, in the elegance and luxury of your family’s fortune. but here, there is a cause that you have already pledged yourself to. it is a battle that occupies your mind and your heart and your lungs as you start a new life among your peers and fellow wixes. you write home a year after your graduation and announce that you won’t return. yet. in the script that you have memorized most, you promise that you will come home some day, but not before this war is fought. you tell your parents not to be ashamed, to be proud of who you have grown into and to watch with pride as you do what they would have, had they come instead of you. and, you live. you are a wicked girl, but it is who you are.
wanted connections:
unrequited love –– i’m just a sucker for it – the kind that she didn’t even see coming, the kind that made them wake up in a cold sweat and scream into their pillow. wilkes doesn’t – get attached. ever. yet, they still sneak glances at you when they think you’re not looking. she laughs a little too hard at your jokes. she isn’t as mean to you as she used to be. they’ve watched you move on without them and there’s nothing they can do about it.
finest friend(s) –– the very people that they met during their first year at hogwarts and never moved on from. attached at the hip, she is always showing up with gifts and stories of her life, memories of the old days, everything in between. there is nobody else that wilkes would really stand up for in the way that they do for you and you can always feel her loyalty.
wilkes assigner –– in my app i said it was a boy but ignore it. the wix that she first introduced herself to and you said “wilkes?” and she was like “yeah.” i just think it’d be a fun connection to have and maybe you never let them forget it and they always roll their eyes, but they don’t actually mind it as much as they claim to.
unlikely friends –– as in, the nice wix to ... the wilkes. you’re a bit on the softer side, a kinder soul that doesn’t seem to mind the faults and terror of wilkes and they are entirely grateful for it – even if they don’t show it. you balance each other out in a way that just feels natural, nothing is forced and she is ( a little bit of ) a better person from it.
anti(s) –– i.e. full time haters <3 maybe you’re too much like wilkes, maybe you’re too different, maybe you’re just good and you know that she’s not. either way, you see each other in public and you glare at each other across the room before getting into an embarrassingly dramatic argument. could also be a significant annoyance.
actual enemies –– as in much worse than a hater, you cannot stand wilkes one single bit and your arguments are less dramatic and more intense. there is real hatred between the two of you and a simple ‘sorry’ isn’t going to fix it.
dededos
pixelskylines
discoholicmusic
kaledo-art
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
