magizat-archive

[magizat-archive]

MOVED BLOGS. I'M NOW ON MAGITANNA

[magizat-archive]

MOVED BLOGS. I'M NOW ON MAGITANNA

[magizat-archive]

MOVED BLOGS. I'M NOW ON MAGITANNA

[magizat-archive]

MOVED BLOGS. I'M NOW ON MAGITANNA

[magizat-archive]

MOVED BLOGS. I'M NOW ON MAGITANNA

#✧･ﾟ― ooc ❫ oh no clarissa is online. #i need to cleanup fast #and be more selective #too many people on here and it was making me anxious and etc

[magizat-archive]

zatanna by stephanie hans

#✧･ﾟ ― visuals ❫ i’m fascinating. #✧･ﾟ ― comics ❫ yes maybe i’ve opened this portal . #this artist has some of my favorite zee drawings ever #like. this is the energy !

[magizat-archive]

of  course  he  wouldn’t  stay.  yes,  he  was  a  landlord’s  nightmare  and  also  her  nightmare  when  he  had  some  free  time  and  her  heart  should  have  known  better  than  to  ask,  right?  it  ended  as  fast  as  it  begun,  that  spark  of  hope  that  made  her  feel  something  and  quickly  led  to  no  disappointment  at  all.  what  use  was  that  word  for?  DISAPPOINTMENT.  it  only  served  as  something  when  another  preceded  it:  expectations.  zatanna  had  none  left,  and  only  laughed  at  his  quip  like  she’d  to  any  other  joke.  trying  to  be  her  reasonable  self  as  usual,  something  easy  to  do  —  who  was  zatanna  zatara  but  a  heartbreaker  too?  though  unlike  him,  rarely  by  choice.  she’d  do  anything  to  have  someone  to  stay.    one  who  could  stay.

the  magician  sat  on  the  floor  right  by  his  leg’s  side  and  listened  to  the  words  coming  from  his  mouth  so  classically  and  rusky.  john’s  communication  with  magic  was  always  interesting.  so  different  from  her  own  and  many  others  in  the  field.  refined,  but  not  in  its  core  or  existence.  it  was  beautiful  to  see  just  like  a  flame  was  beautiful  as  well:  dangerously  so,  and  close  to  burning.  and  suddenly  any  joy  her  heart  felt  at  having  company  for  a  mission  vanished  as  the  colors  in  the  picture  frame  turned  into  distant  reality  right  in  front  of  her  eyes.  love,  everlasting,  the  sort  that  her  child  self  read  in  fairytales  being  shown  from  its  beginning  to  its  violent  end.  zee  didn’t  even  notice  it  ending  before  she  felt  the  hot  liquid  coming  down  her  cheeks  silently  and  her  hand  holding  constantine’s  knee  tightly,  looking  for  support.  they  were  dead  —  a  fact  that  was  known  from  the  moment  they  walked  in.  but  they  died  horribly,  in  terror,  facing  something  supernatural.  their  death  happened  in  the  middle  of  confusion.

“ fuck. ”    zatanna  whispered  in  exasperation,  cleaning  her  tears  quickly  and  heard  HIM.  asking  if  she  was  alright.  alright?  no,  hell  she  wasn’t  —  innocents  were  dead  and  all  they  could  do  was  try  to  figure  out  what  happened  and  —  “ yes,  i’m  fine.  don’t  worry  about  me. ”  a  stage  performer  knew  how  to  hide  things  well.  she  always  did  it.  an  honest  woman  with  white  lies  to  avoid  being  hurt  —  to  want  john  close  was  to  want  to  be  broken  again.  " i  just  think  your  jokes  aren’t  as  funny  as  they  used  to  be, it makes me cry. ”   a  remark  for  the  hurt  she  felt,  something  he  didn’t  share.  AND  THEN:  THE  SOUND!  from  the  up  floor.  steps.  someone  was  in  there  still.  someone,  or  something.  zatanna’s  eyes  turned  white  in  magical  fury.

“ we  can  still  get  it. ”   and  for  whatever  it  takes  we  can  destroy  it.  she  didn’t  wait  before  running  up  as  fast  as  her  legs  could  take,  blue  flames  on  the  palms  of  her  hands  —  leaving  john  behind  and  following  the  noise  with  one  task  in  the  head.  kill  the  demon,  the  creature,  that  murdered  the  innocents.  zatanna  stopped  before  a  trapdoor  to  the  attic,  sensing  her  partner  coming  up  as  well.  should  I wait  or  face  the  threat  alone?

            𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔞 𝔣𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤, how horrors seethe underneath astral veils & yet, the occultist never felt more at ease. lungs feel lighter / the noose slacken ever so slightly. john can't help but muse to himself, a teasing, homely situation he's found himself in. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒, time had been one cruel prick to the foundations. ragged hands a hovering ghost over the surface, an 𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚒𝚊 that doesn't want to be relished in. the story will be told sooner or later. there's a conversation held in the air, a silent shrug as response: what was i 'spose to do. hands fall into slacks' pockets as hues watch zee crouch, figure looms over like a shadow. ( 𝔞 𝔟𝔞𝔡 𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫: the magician's eyes spoke otherwise. ) behind distracted gaze, john's hues could only soften. question that lingered with every meet, what remains of 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 ached in contrition. ❝ ah, the place's a fixer - upper, but i'm a 𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡'𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔢 ⎯⎯ reputation precedes 'n all that, love. ❞ sincerity amongst silver tongued humour. a double - edged answer; what he yearns for is a pipe dream ( & wouldn't think twice to 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 for it. does that scare you, john ? )

the portrait glides & orbs fall upon the art. a glimpse of normalcy, 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜. how'd it always felt just out of reach ⎯⎯ a stolen glimpse of zatanna's features, 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 & 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 in the back of his wretched mind. coat instinctively shrugs off at zee's ask / sleeves rolled up before calloused digits takes a hold of the frame.

❝ only 'cause you asked so nicely . . . & the promise of a pub is enticing. ❞ a drink to numb the fear of what might reveal itself, an excuse to linger just a bit longer. silvered hues focused, ignore the 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚝 that twists in the stomach. ❝ 𝖉𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊-𝖈𝖊 𝖆𝖌𝖚𝖘 𝖆𝖐𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖆, 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖉𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖍 𝖆𝖓 𝖋𝖍ì𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖓 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖉. ❞ silver imitations project from the couple. youthful laughter reverb through the static, hands held tenderly. the grasp tightens as screams begin to consume, skin 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 until nothing but shells ⎯⎯ falling back into the picturesque pose, hands still intwined, & colliding the floor below. ❝ bloody hell. certainly one way to 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑. ❞ a moment eyebrows furrow together, ❝ you alright, zee ? ❞

#punkmacabre #* v : main.

[magizat-archive]

“ it’s  alright.  i  should  have  come  to  see  you,  too. ”   it  was  a  path  that  went  both  ways,  wasn’t  it?  the  fault  for  their  friendship  falling  apart  was  also  hers,  as  much  as  it  was  his  or  the  circumstances  of  moving  out,  of  growing  up  —  of  not  recognizing  your  child  self.    she’d  admit  being  excited  to  have  him  at  her  show,  though  —  always  ready  to  be  a  little  showoff.  zatanna  grinned  to  herself  at  that,  already  planning  how  much  she  could  give  to  the  world  and  to  such  a  forgotten  part  of  it.

her  black  hair  fell  over  her  eyes  as  she  nodded  enthusiastically  and  beamed,  a  sound  of  excitement  out  of  her  lips  before  she  could  think.  she  remembered  then,  her  father  at  the  stage  —  the  laughter  of  those  that  needed  it  more  than  anyone.  it  would  be  wonderful  to  do  that  too.  to  feel  closer  to  her  roots  than  ever  before.    “  thank  you, bruce. ”    the  honesty  was  so  striking  she  almost  blushed  at  it  being  so  bare.  but  it  wasn’t  something  befitting  of  her,  was  it?  so  zee  just  continued  to  smile  until  the  mention  of  werewolves  was  brought  up.

could  he  handle  the  truth?  he  was  never  much  of  a  magic  guy,  was  he?  even  as  a  boy.

“ let’s  pretend  you  don’t  know  you’re  pretty. ”  a  finger  rose  in  the  air,  pointing  at  his  chest  accusedly.  he  was  joking,  surely.  he  was  pretty  indeed  :  always  had  been  —  the  beauty  had  grown  with  him,  but  not  the  way  she  expected  back  then.  bruce  was  supposed  to  grow  like  apples  in  their  trees,  like  a  stream  to  the  ocean,  but  here  he  was  like  pomegranates  in  autumn  instead.  or  lilies  in  a  funeral.  there  was  a  hint  of  sadness  that  emanated  from  his  energy  that  made  her  sad  herself,  if  not  a  little  more  curious  to  sit  down  and  talk  about  what  happened  since  she  had  left  him  the  last  time.  left  him,  and  his  parents.  zee  sighed.    “ werewolves  are  everywhere,  and  they  seem  to  love  me  for  some  reason.  don’t  worry  though.   for  a  city  called  gotham,  there  aren’t  many  goth  creatures  around  —  except  for  that  bat  guy.  i  wonder  if  he’s  a  werewolf  too. ”

more  likely  a  vampire  —  even  if  those  weren’t  as  common.

“ it’s  always  wonderful  to  see  an  old  friend. ”    zatanna  said  her  goodbyes,  taking  one  glass  of  champagne  and  staring  at  him  one  second  more  before  turning  her  back.  “ see  you  in  the  front  row,  bruce.  or  else. ”  the  threat  wasn’t  empty.

the name arkham spelled out in lettering as flyer is held out , and his eyes slightly widen as brows raise. gotham , despite it's veracious appetite for cruelty still was a real and very living entity. people moved within the city as best they could - the remainder of population who had indeed survived the flood put into temporary housing that was never quite enough.

as eyes spy her costume a smile can't help but tug , ' you were always good at that ... ' a warmth blossoms beneath wording , and for few precious moments he forgots the weight of his namesake , those who wanted him dead. the flyer moved with wrist as the lighting catches what it can of her costume , and that smile spreads. ' i should've come and seen you sooner ' a gentle sort of apology. ' i'm sorry about that ' though there is little point in obsessing about the past.

she asks for his help , and he returns to that question as a nod of his head accompanies words , ' i can see what i can do ... try to pull a few strings ' after all , he is part arkham - that part of his lineage evident by the blonde streaks within hair. the jawline that was handed down by his mother , and the his unique ability to constantly be surrounded in what others would call a macabre air.

' i'll come to this one ' in truth he had wanted to be there , to ensure her safety.

i ensure that my tone is coated in a easy sort of air , that i'm doing better - aren't i ? it's been a year since the flood and i've come to learn a difficult past that will never unlearned. there is fear that comes with my namesakes , a self hatred that buries deep. if i am to sit on the arkham board then i need to immerse myself into every aspect. levity is learned aspect , i've studied well and ensured that my secret is safe. i then choose to extend my good nature as i return to a comment she had previously made.

' pretty as me ? ... now i know you're joking ' laughter manages , as teeth drag against lower lip , ' where exactly would you come across werewolves? '

#arkhameir #* v : main. #closed.

[magizat-archive]

IM LATE!! but wanted to wish you a happy birthday still 🎂

*eats the cake emoji* thank you?? you're so lovely. thank you!

#✧･ﾟ― ooc ❫ oh no clarissa is online. #<3333 #i'm weeping

[magizat-archive]

Clarissa! Happy birthday !! I hope you have the best day and it’s full of goodness and bubbly (possibly cake) ANYWAYS you’re such a joy and I’m so glad we’ve gotten the chance to know one another. I know college is a lot™️ right now but you’re kicking its butt 🤍🤍 ily and you’re such a bright presence on my dash.

selina omg!! thank you so much ! you are such lovely presence, incredible writer and i'm so glad to be your mutual! :`) thanks again.

#✧･ﾟ― ooc ❫ oh no clarissa is online. #you rock too you rock sm actually

[magizat-archive]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY!

thank you dearest ! 💜

#its almost over but it was a very chill day #tysm !! :´) #✧･ﾟ― ooc ❫ oh no clarissa is online.

[magizat-archive]

so, today's my birthday! i'm 24 now and that's a little scary considering everything but hey, i'm taking the day off for myself and won't be around much even on disc. but see you tomorrow and thanks for the patience. you are all lovely <3

#✧･ﾟ― ooc ❫ oh no clarissa is online. #i'm getting older but just never wiser *sings* #anyway #have a loveeeeely day everyone

[magizat-archive]

INTOLERABLE CRUELTY (2003) dir. Joel and Ethan Coen

#✧･ﾟ ― musings ❫ too late to turn back now. #✧･ﾟ ― mannerisms ❫ m'i tou fo ym ecaf... #sHE

[magizat-archive]

a  genuine  smile  graced  her  features  though  of  course  he  couldn’t  see  it.  she  walked  ahead  careful  not  to  step  on  any  traps,  eyes  watchful  towards  any  mysterious  gleam  or  sparkle  that  could  mean  a  hidden  spell.  was  she  someone  able  to  investigate  this  house  on  her  own?  yes,  but  john  was  in  town,  and  she  was  also  smart  enough  to  use  another’s  capacities  when  the  chance  showed  up  —  or  maybe  you  just  wanted  to  see  him,  the  inner  and  hyper  annoying  voice  whispered  inside  the  head,  foolish  woman.  dark  blue  orbs  went  over  shoulder  to  spy  on  him.    “ i  don’t  think  i’ve  shared  that. ” but  it  was  around  fifty  years  or  more.  she  knew  the  story  just  enough;  an  elderly  couple  with  no  children,  a  crumbling  place  that  now  belonged  to  the  government  to  pay ancient bills  and  that  wasn’t  for  sale. never ready to be a home again.   a  sad  affair,  something  those  walls  told.

the  magician  stopped  on  her  tracks  to  glare  at  the  butt  of  his  cigarette  on  the  floor.  a  silent  message:  really?  before  she  knelt  to  the  floor,  noticing  what  he  meant.  “ it  is  very  clean…  hey,  are  you  still  looking  for  a  place  to  rent?  maybe  you  could  stay  here.  it suits your aesthetic. ”  zatanna  joked  but  there  was  a  genuine  question  hidden:  was  he  going  to  stay  longer  this  time?  it  always  lingered  whenever  they  met,  and  though  the  answer  was  always  the  same,  she  never  ceased  to  wonder.

A  TIRED  SIGH  LEFT  LIPS  as  she  licked  them,  taking  objects  and  books  from  her  bag.    “ the  best  way  of  knowing  if  this  place  is  being  used  by  hellish  creatures  or  gangsters  is  to  ask  the  owners  themselves. ”    with  a  flick  of  her  finger  a  portrait  came  flying  to  their  direction.  zatanna  picked  it  up  and  looked  at  the  couple  who  didn’t  stare  back  at  her,  but  to  each  other;  lovingly  so.  she  hoped  that  their  end  had  been  sweet.  no  flick  of  pain.    “ john,  can  you  do  this  for  me?  my  magic  is  not  under  control  today. ”  half-true.  she  did  so  many  shows  last  night  that  her  energy  was  a  bit  drained.  invocation  was  under  her  dominion,  but  controlling  it  could  lead  her  to  be  weaponless.  and  as  a  member  of  the  league,  that  was  unaffordable.    “ pretty  please?  then  we  can  go  to  any  pub  you  wish. ”   a  bad  idea  it  was,  to  drink  with  john  constantine.  but  she  had  been  down  that  road  before;  another  round  wouldn’t  hurt  much.

( ✞ ) ⎯⎯ @magizat : 008, inside an old abandoned house.

            ❝ 𝔷𝔢𝔢, 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, if you're wantin' my company . . . ❞ digit trails amongst sea of dust, 𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐎𝐅, erode & disappear into nothing ⎯⎯ 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏. ❝ a pub would've suited just fine. ❞ caught behind a veil of smoke, a moon shaped smirk thrown haphazardly towards the magician's way. couldn't trust the league as far as he could throw 'em. ( the feeling vocally reciprocated back / ascetic bite 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐏. ) but zatanna, with all serpentine charm & resonant compassion, drew him here. moth to cursed flame. wallpapers peeling from walls, glass splintering underneath boot's weary heel. gut instinct says some lies deeper; nerves observing, searching beyond 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎.

❝ how long ago did you say this shithole was deserted ? ❞ question echoed over coated shoulder, sapped wood beneath 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔰𝔥. sigh escaping in response, cigarette butt thrown out over the dusty sill. typical haunted house fashion. it's the unknown that pulls constantine like a magnet, a sick, fleeting thrill never fulfilled / void weighing heavy around like a thick blanket while walking. ❝ seems like someone⎯⎯ or somethin' has been keeping up wit' the housework. never seen a bloody wreck look so tidy. ❞

#punkmacabre #* v : main. #i'm shaking with enthusiasm

[magizat-archive]

everything  around  them  came  out  of  an  apocalypse  movie  and  zatanna  could  even  say  she  was  impressed.  whoever  did  this  was  adamant  in  causing  chaos  and  well,  it  worked.  to  receive  the  wonder  boy's  –  boy  was  a  weird  word  to  describe  the  younger  man  —  call  was  also  something  surprising.  but  she  was  glad  to  be  of  any  help,  even  if  their  abilities  were  not  so  close  to  each  other,  or  even  their vessels.  a  giggle  escaped  her  lips,  appreciative  of  the  humor  that  lightened  the  mood  and  the  scenario;  still,  they  had  work  to  do.  “ that’s  not  really  good  news  either.  if  he  were  here,  we  could  finish  this  sooner. ”  and  she  hoped  he  was  aware  that  she  was  not  a  detective  to  find  someone  just  like  that  — or that  invocation  spells  didn’t  work  on  the  living  humans  as  easily  as  it  did  on  the  dead  ones.

at  his  question  the  sorceress  concentrated.    eyes  white,  powerful,  and  backward  words  floating  out  of  pretty  lips.  some  of  the  wreckage  disappeared  out  of  thin  air,  leaving  only  smoke  behind.  but  the  important  bit  was  underneath;  tire  marks.  someone  fleeing  the  scene  before  the  exploding  occurred.  “ i  found  the  clues  you’re  looking  for.  this  has  nothing  magical  about  it…  except,  this. ”  a  small  object  was  gleaming  under  the  fire.  a  pen.  how  was  it  intact,  though?  she  doubted  any  school  supply  was  that  good.    “ this  is  definitely  enchanted.  whoever  did  this  likes  to  sign  documents  a  lot,  or  make  other  people  do  it. ”  a  soul  binding  ink…  contracts  and  the  sort.  nothing  very  original:  the  gangsters  in  san  francisco  had  that  tactic  too.      zatanna  looked  at  nightwing  with  amusement.  “ where’s  the  lost  and  found  section? ”

❛ I don’t understand your definition of good news. ❜ / @magizat

something exploded vaguely to their left. dick's hands went to his waist and his lips pursed absentmindedly as he assessed the damage around them. GOOD NEWS is they weren't apart of the wreckage. BAD NEWS? everything else kind of was. between everything that was charred to finish or was CURRENTLY on fire, yeah the good news reel was going to be more of a vine. however, dick likes to think they're in the ballpark of good news. at the fence, maybe. his foot scuffs the peeling floor. in the parking lot, even. " yeah. " dick blew a breath out, clean up was going to SUCK. " how about good news-adjacent? good news' second cousin. " a beam broke. crashed to the floor in a spectacular splay of dust and battered remains and dick winced. only a little. yeah, maybe he had less for his case than he'd previously disclosed and maybe the hunt was going to be more like looking for a match in a firestorm. everything is information, and even if this turned out to be a pretty expensive bust, at least they know they were pulling on the right strings. " the good news is we know he's NOT here. " but, yeah maybe he needed to consult a dictionary. dick's hands move to scout the remains, but doesn't go very far. they won't get much, dick knows that, but zatanna's powers were more complex than he could ever understand. he squints a bit at some of the lightly smoldering stacks and asks in her direction, " do you see anything? "

#fightwing #* v : main. #holy moly this took ages to reply i'm so sorry!! #also do i have any clue what is this #nah

[magizat-archive]

#✧･ﾟ ― music box ❫ isn't it a wonderful thing ? #✧･ﾟ ― aesthetics ❫ sparkles and rabbits and hats and … #q.

[magizat-archive]

William Klein - Juliette Marglen Lipstick Ad (Vogue 1957)

#✧･ﾟ ― aesthetics ❫ sparkles and rabbits and hats and … #q.