#cursework

[derangedthoughtssideblog]

nobody talks about how hard it is to be in huge authors fandoms but your favourite books of them are the ones no one wants to talk about

[icouldhyperfixatehim]

bison saying he "always wanted a brother" hurt MY feelings, i'm so fucking glad fadel wasn't there

[thinenotthee]

back at it again!

oc-tober day 4: under-appreciated oc

there was a time when all i did was make picrews of my girl frankie. i have not thought of her in way too long. so here are tales from the girl who's seen it all, your favorite podcast host fighting daily not to get trapped in a painting, francesca "frankie" santiago!

[faeriexalice]

i had finished the Curseworkers trilogy, and felt upset that the trilogy was over, so i started reading The Coldest Girl in Coldtown. now that i finished that, and i am upset that THAT book finished too.. i supposed i should reread my other Holly Black faves to remedy that problem. The Modern Faerie Tales and The Darkest Part of the Forest will always have my back 🙏🏻

[readinthedarkpod]

Episode 29 broke our spirits, so we're using this episode to complain about it. Join us as we discuss our recording hiccups, an oldie but a goodie by a perpetual podcast fave (Holly Black), a dark romance series that even our resident die hard couldn't stomach, and so much more!

Books Discussed: The Curseworker Series by Holly Black The Clearwater University series by Eva Ashwood

Books Mentioned: The Cruel Prince by Holly Black The Coldest Girl in Cold Town by Holly Black … we are sure there are more. But we were tired and fed up. Cut us some slack, for the love of God.

Join our book club @wornpagelibrary!

And if you want, follow the hosts @adxmparriish @figonas @laequiem and @hazelsheartsworn

[justasillyjokester]

I have never read the curseworkers but i thought i might toss you some meat anyway

[entangledwitch]

i fucking love magic

[scalpel-mom-mori]

my princess....

worshipping the ground chloe walks on thank you for pink faust in a corset

[mihai-florescu]

Nyota Faust hair designs:

central revolution -> curseworker era -> east sage's wizards teacher

[au-set]

Ranking Mahoyaku wizards as your roommate (HCs + some short scenarios)

its finally semester break, i promise ill read chapter 1.5 of the main story now...

Hey, dear Sage... we just never questioned how the room we will be sleeping in soon was another Sage's? THAT LAD PROBABLY DIED 2 HOURS AGO AND NOW THE WIZARDS ARE CLAIMING HIS ROOM AS YOUR NEW HOME THE SAME EVENING HE SACRIFICED HIS LIFE IN THE CALAMITY.

In the great name of fengshui, you insist on sharing a room instead.

"hm, is this worse than clothes-less knight drunk dancing at 3am..."

20th — Nero

There are certain pros to being his roomie, obviously, but HAVE YOU SEEN THE GUY’S ROOM? Nero does not own a kitchen; his whole room IS the kitchen. Each time after he cooks, the amount of water droplets from the steam would damp your bedsheets... soggy bed... Don’t get me started on the state of the shared bedroom when he decides to fry food. Furthermore, the head of the bed is facing directly in front of the fire stove. That is a fire hazard for your hair, sir. 

Pros: access to unlimited midnight snacks. Go steal yourself a few pastries off his shelf for supper; he won’t mind.

His roommate will always be the first person he shares his new recipes with, which comes with delicious taste tests too. Imagine laying down on the bed and brainstorming recipes with Nero from your original world, it melts my heart.

19th — Smelly Mithra

Mimi bought this place with the price of his pillows (or else he’d be last place). Look at his little moon, I will rob it from his grasp and never return it.

Oh, oh wait he has two... I AM TAKING BOTH.

Cons: holding his hand. I headcanon all wizards originated from the North, the inability to have sweaty hands, yet I think it’s uncomfortable. Sure, Mithra’s happy he got the convenience of amazing sleep everyday when you’re in the manor, I physically cannot think of a position where it is partially comfortable unless he’s hugging you or has you little spooned.

Incapable of doing chores, does he even know what cleaning up after himself means?

Oh and he doesn’t know how to use a napkin so I doubt he showers. Stinky uncle Mithra.

18th — Bradley

Do NOT wake up later than him, he WILL tickle you awake if given the mood. Like Shino, who has a rope beside his bed, this man just has an entire display of guns… Not as scary because it isn't right by his bed… I stand by my point. Throws his jacket wherever he wants, messy roommate (not as bad compared to Murr) in general. I cannot think of a single pro at the moment.

Does not own a bed but SLEEPS ON LEATHER(?) SOFAS??? Countless materials in the world, this is what he chose. Sages, we napping on the carpet for this one.

His love for taking in large amounts of tasty food at once is endearing, not much so when you start to take note of the dirty plates starting to pile up at the corner of your shared room. Habitually, Bradley will tidy it up when it gets overwhelming, you still feel disgusted once in a while.

17th — Faust

In spite of the dark atmosphere in his room, it feels more cosy rather than sinister to me… BEFORE THE SUN SETS. Curseworker or what not, no one should have more than two mirrors hanging in their bedroom’s walls. The only person you are cursing is yourself. Faust will be escorting the Sage (me) to the bathroom past 12am, no complaints allowed for someone who has his room looking like a ritual summoning circle. What if a monster emerges from the inside of the mirror and starts genociding? We take no chances.

Initially, Faust was incredibly against sharing his room with anyone. If not for the Sage’s request otherwise, you wouldn’t be here browsing through his street cats photo albums. So subtle, so slowly that you couldn’t pinpoint when the wise Wizard started bringing you along his trips to his garden.

Almost forgot to mention his feet stabber 3000 and sceptical tied red stringed straw star on the floor...

16th — Rustica

Leaves the door open, like just enough to not be closed or sometimes just wide open. Bugs you about his “hanayome” everyday and every chance. No, my paint palette is not your bride, leave it alone. During unpredictable hours, Rustica fancies hosting karaokes by himself; singing melodies from the bottom of his heart; hoping his "hanayome" will hear him and grace their appearance in the room. Which will most likely be this Nova person because who in this world can actually hear past the sound barrier...

Has the nicest smelling room out of all of the 21 Wizards. Man has plants growing from the cabinet, I bet his cutlery smells like herbs. When you use his utensils it makes dishes taste bitter due to that reason. I hate having bitter food so you’re getting a low ranking.

Having you as his roomie cut off Chloe a bunch of slack, you’re now in charge of buttoning up his clothes and tidying up his ribbons.

15th — Cain

The first thought that came into mind is how Cain periodically gets drunk and starts dancing naked and I don’t want to be chilling or half-asleep with the door slamming open for me to get flashed by a nude knight’s body… Other than that, flawless roomie, handsome lad, would blind your eyes at 8am every morning by opening the curtains then flashing you his sunny smile (hopefully with clothes on).

Potential Owen visits, Owen scary. 15th place it is.

14th — Shino

WHY DO YOU HAVE ROPE JUST LAYING NEXT TO YOUR BED??? IS IT FOR SOME EMERGENCY ESCAPE DOWN THE SECOND FLOOR WHEN ARSON HAPPENS OR?????? I do not feel safe sleeping in the same room as him. What if he tied me up and threw me out the window? NOPE.

Please store it away before I use it to tie you up and throw you out the window instead.

You’re both either arguing over Heathcliff-needs-or-not-to-be-kept-safe-in-my-pocket-related topics or in a mutual agreement of “tasty bread” “valid” “if I can cast spells I’ll name mine delicious blueberry cheese tarts” “great idea” “in Latin maybe” “yeah”. 

Makes every single house task competitive, who can throw out the trash the fastest, who has the tidier bed made (no wrinkles, no accidental folds, no drool marks). As long as a victory title is achievable, he will challenge you. The both of you have a tiny magnet board to keep track of every loss and wins.

Never fail to cook up something unique for you when Nero is away, his forest watcher survival skills shine through the way he freshly hunts the ingredients just to please you with a fresh meal. Totally not because he wants to be praised by the Sage to inflate his ego. 

13th — Shylock

Alcohol. Smells like alcohol and only alcohol. That sly bartender will cast you a spell if it does bother you though. Does not allow you to freely decorate your side of the room, everything you decide to put on your desk has to go through his ‘aesthetic approval’.

Charmed instantly when he puts his hair down before bed, no denials here. Shylock often, and, justifiably catch you admiring his face from seconds to minutes because of how beautiful he looks. And that my fellow Sages, is a pro. Sharing a room with a pretty man! Mwahs!

After showering, Shylock offers to blowdry your hair when he has time to spare. What was supposed to be a little blowdrying routine tends to always escalates to a whole self-care session with the abundance of products the wizard insists on using on your hair. At the end of each session, he would give you the best scalp massage, it usually helps you sleep better at night.

12th — Snow & White (They share a room in the game so I’m putting them together)

Very nice and spacious because they're tiny and they get stuck in a painting at night so the room is all to claim MWAHAHAHA- honestly though, their antics would keep the Sage entertained through boring days and will talk nonstop about their 2000 years worth of life story. One thing I worry about is White screaming at the top of his lungs when accidentally scared—I move around my house without any noises, I might get blood in my ears a lot due to that. 

Their self portrait on the wall is cute but chilling at night, there’s also no windows in their room?!

Ho... faceless Snow and White...

Be prepared for the old じじs to wake you up at odd hours into the night to tell you something completely irrelevant and grotesque: “White is dead as you know, don’t you like having a dead corpse pressed up against your body when you two hug?” Denies everything when you wake up, refuses to take responsibility for mental damage as if Owen hasn’t caused enough.

11th — Chloe

His room is so eerie at night, I would be scared. The walls are under-decorated and have an empty ambience in general. Would be the type to share a closet with you if you’re around the same size as him. If you're smaller, better. Except being terrified of him jumping at me at 3am, I think Chloe makes a cute roomie. 

Frequently returns with gifts that tickle his interests strolling downtown. 

Chloe illogically makes me think that he owns a pet rock and asks you to take care of her. Apparently, a lively human child gave it to him? One day the Westerner discovered the rock grew eyes—googly eyes; you thought it was hilarious and he decided to leave it on from then on.

10th — Murr

Type of roommate to whine for your attention whenever he gets bored, disturbing you from the Sage’s work. On cloudy days, Murr will convert the bedroom into a fort when given permission (or not, he doesn't care) to use your pillows and blanket as walls and roofs. To witness the ceiling turned into a galaxy with his magic; he squeezes beside you on the hammock and reaches out his hand at the illusion moon; hours of his wisdom steals away your sleep and the silence in the chaotic night.

Will start writing poetry of the moon at midnight and force you to listen to him vent about his profuse, lavish and longing of the beautiful moon. Gets zero sleep with him, always tinkering around gemstones late at night. Aren’t cats supposed to sleep through 80% of the day? Meow meow’s room looks super fun, there are many trinkets and magical artefacts laying around. Temporary forgiven. 

9th — Owen

Having him as a roommate is pretty nice in my opinion. Recalling how he enjoys chaos in the city, thus rarely seen in the manor is the highlight of his ranking. Majority of the time the room is all yours, if he’s around, simply endure a few teases and mental breakdowns. Other than that, yeah the room is yours. 

Seldomly asks you out for teatime, never fails to take you to taste the most delicious cream puffs in town. Intentionally forces you to stay up late at night with him so he can tell you all about his wonderful day of being Snow White.

When he comes back I will toss him out the window.

8th — Mitile

Please go to bed Mitile. Purposefully staying up after 12am after being influenced by Shino's superior nonsense. He is determined to prove to the Easterner that he is a 'big boy' too and doesn’t need a set bedtime and curfews now that he is the chosen Sage’s wizard. Will absolutely begs the Sage to keep talking to him to keep him awake even though he can barely keep his eyes open. I need sleep…

Afternoons with Mitile are similar to Rutile, he would act all mighty and knowledgeable whenever you inquired him regarding anything, I repeat, the smallest things in the world! Cheerfully hopping on the sofa with you, his slightly folded notebook on his lap and patiently explains to the Sage about what he has learnt from Dr. Figaro.

7th — Heathcliff

Bet his room smells like coffee and rain, that deserves a high ranking on itself. Very careful roommate, walks quietly when you’re already asleep and makes sure the door is closed at all times unlike some immoral swin-

Do you think he has like 5 heavy mechanical clocks in his room that goes “tick, tock, tick, tock, tick-” that are impossible to ignore? They never shut up, it is constant throughout the day, afternoon, evening, night—endlessly. I will go insane.

Look at his blueprints, I am certain there are clocks resting under his pillow because it's his wish charm.

6th — Riquet

Another desolated-looking room, please put up something more than the… pentagon drawn on papers (are those notes or something to do with his religion?). He definitely prays every night before bed and it makes me feel safe to be sleeping in the same room as him.

Under Bradley’s influence, Riquet learnt how to sneak into the (Nero’s) kitchen. Some mischievous nights, the two of you will blindly grab a few jars and packets of food from the pantry before carefully tip-toeing back to your rooms.

The rest of the night are experiments—cooking up distinguished dishes by mixing two random ingredients together and praying it doesn’t give unwanted stomach aches. When the colour turned out suspicious, Riquet and the Sage rock, paper, scissors to decide which one will be the ‘victim’ of their own Michelin star recipe.

5th — Figaro (hardest for me to write ;; i tried my best)

I would be scared of him doing something suspicious to the Sage—you had witnessed his room antics… he did swear to refrain from any funny business. Genuinely, Figaro is delighted that you chose to share a room with him. Will he feel less lonely to have someone an arm’s reach away at night…? 

Nosy roommate that hovers over your body whenever you’re occupied at the desk, similar to Murr but in a tamed way... as tamed as his patience can handle at least. Speaking of tame, you're again assigned with monitoring his drinking habits. Weekly routine of checking cabinets, beds and his unusually thicker coats.

One of these medicine bottles has to be replaced with alcohol.

Nags at you whenever he spots you have yet to make your bed in the morning, then does it himself. Victim of his endlessly cheesy flirts, needs your constant ratings and approvals as a facade for your attention.

4th — Rutile

I cannot find anything wrong with sharing a room with him, peaceful most of the time. Has a wall pinned with his proud drawings and I will boost his interest in drawing anytime I get. Gently wake you up in the morning, regularly have one-on-one study sessions to help you understand more about this unknown world.

 Not as bad as Cain assuming he will never start stripping while drunk, you’re still tasked with his well-being on festive days.

My little precious...

Enjoys leaving little cute sticky notes with reminders when he is assigned with missions far away from the manor: “I already did your laundry for the week ^^,” “do not skip your breakfast again >:(”. At the corner of each note, Rutile doodles on a chibi drawing of an animal (la cretura) when he has spare time and you get to guess what it actually is.

3rd — Oz

Hear me out, Oz has the loud dad snore that tortures you away from sleep- Ahem, he will put a partisan in the middle of the room separating the two of you alongside a noise barrier. No… he does enjoy your company, most of the time—fond of you even. I picture Oz as this guy who really treasures his personal space. Sharing a room with him grants you the same privacy he wishes. Perhaps after a few more small talks, he will consider removing the barrier.

Being the Sage is hard, a pledge forced upon fate. When things seem to get hard to keep up with your work, all your problems are magically solved. Papers neatly settled on your desk, a candy on top of the stack. “When Arthur was still young, he…” We all know how that goes. 

DON'T THINK YOU CAN BLOCK IT WITH YOUR BODY, OZ, I CAN SEE IT HERE.

Let’s not ignore the fireplace placement too, why is it right behind the bed again? Imagining all the dust from the charcoaled wood already makes me want to sneeze. 

2nd — Arthur

The Central Prince feels like the type of boy that’d be interested in storytelling at the end of the day, harmless chitchats about all the little happy things that had happened.

Brings back food from his professional, royal cooks sometimes and I’m here for that. On some nights, you find Arthur tossing and turning around his bed unable to fall asleep… you wonder why.

His justice and leader-like profile would not last long under your attentive hospitality; you were his ‘guest’ afterall, Arthur felt more guilty after you confronted him. Helping him find courage to open up his heart, letting all the dark thoughts eating up his self-worth inside brought your relationship with the prince closer than ever.

1st — Lennox

It’s bliss guys, you get to cuddle in a sea of fluffy white sheeps and a big guy protects you. Heaven. Please be my roommate. Cleanest room out of all of them, tidy and spotless. Voluntarily helps out with Sage’s paperworks countless times.

Although he might be awkward at first, I think after a few nights, you would comfort each other’s bad days and be each other’s listeners. Sleep so still you thought he died, when you poke him to make sure, his eyes shot open in an instant. Military men, man.

Slight choking hazard from sheep fur but we turn a blind eye to that hahaha…

Conclusion: everyone else is disqualified except Murr and Bradley because all of their beds are facing the door and that is not very fengshui.

If you made it here, thanks for reading~ ☆

[n3curatu]

The Holmes Curses: Auld Néaltrú, or the Last Coil of Awareness Ritual

Previously: The Chill of the Crypt Ritual.

Ah, the fear of losing control of one’s own existence, resulting in the common weakling known as the perfectionist, stems from a deep-seated need to manage outcomes, as we all know. But did you know that it is indeed possible for a clever witch to exploit this fragility through curses that weaponizes compulsions, and they have done so all throughout millenia? Nature has made it so that people can acquire néaltrú (or, in English-speaking terms, memory loss, perpetual confusion, and the withering erosion of the self). Derived from the Irish Gaelic néal (“cloud/fog”) and trú (“decay/withering”), the Ancient Celts believed that unseelies could infect people by stealing memories and ruining their lives — and that the people who were afflicted couldn’t stop it until these sadistic fae were satisfied! A witch who wanted to work with them against a sworn enemy would often perform mallachts — incantations meant to curse — and other forms of cursework. Nowadays, néaltrú can simply be translated as “dementia”. For that reason, I’ve come to think of it as the Last Coil of Awareness Ritual. You may feel that this is in poor taste, though, depending on your point of view. It’s to be remembered that I’m only here as a spell informant — don’t direct your hate towards me.

Dementia awareness has been flourishing since Everywhere at the End of Time has been made public. Using songs from the movie, The Shining (yet another Holmesian thing), it simulates this psychological disorder and the loss of the self, tracing its progression from minor symptoms to the complete disintegration of memory, progressively falling further and further away from what it was at Stage 1. As the six-stage album progresses, the music disintegrates: familiar tunes fray into dissonant loops, swallowed by reverb and static, while ambient drones overtake the soundscape. By Stage 4, coherence collapses, melodies stagger like disoriented thoughts, and by the final stages, the once-vibrant compositions dissolve into a cacophony of fragmented tones and eerie silence. This sonic decomposition mirrors the harrowing trajectory of dementia — not just memory loss, but the erasure of identity itself.

The version of this ritual we’re going to be looking at today is more up to date and remastered, utilizing the leader of the O’Driscoll Boys, Colm O’Driscoll, as a figure to call upon. He is quite fitting, I must admit, as he is an Irish Native and, at times I headcannon, an unseelie (at the very least, he mirrors them). His presence in this ritual symbolizes surrender to entropy, the deterioration of identity. It also uses things in nature that he represents — snakes, the creeping decay of mold and crawlies, etc. Despite being a country known to be snakeless, serpents are part of Irish culture nonetheless — snake cults, serpentine gemstones, and slithery knots have made themselves at home there. Snake handling is more Appalachian in nature and was popular during the Wild West, and knowing Colm, is something he's done thrice before. Snakes, typically rattlers, are passed among congregants for handling during rituals. And, if you look at Colm’s hat, there is a rattlesnake on it. So, at the Devil's Hour, when the world grows silent and the shadows of old rise, invoke this unholy curse. May the venom of the serpent guide your hand, may the mold and the crawling throng of nature’s forsaken spawn seep into your soul, and may the spirit of Colm O’Driscoll (whose brutality haunts the hearts of all) be your eternal ally. Let your adversary's memory rot, their mind unravel, and their very self disintegrate into the fog of oblivion — a final dirge for the end of awareness.

So, if you've got a Dutch of your own to curse, here's how to perform the ritual. Do so at your own risk and discretion.

Participants:

One practitioner

Materials:

Athame

Sacred serpent

Grove, preferably populated by oak trees

Slate, preferably crude and blackened

Snakeskin, wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet

Gathered clusters of thick, greenish mold from damp ruins

Goblet of murky water filled with writhing insects and crawling vermin

Directions:

Beneath the cold glare of stars, begin the rite in the chosen area. As the dusk bleeds into a choking silence, lay the materials upon the cold, cracked earth. In this moment, you hold the tools to unleash an inevitability: the collapse of memory, certainty, and finally of self. Then here, on these cursed grounds, call upon the spirits of decay. Let them be harbingers of dread in the soul of your target. “Spirits from the grave without a soul to save, be kind to me. Spirits of the trees that grow upon the leas, be kind to me. Spirits of earthbound dead and hellbound dead that glide with noiseless tread, be kind to me. O mighty Serpent, whose sinuous coils bind fate accursed, your fangs dripping venom of ancient lore, I clasp you close, your cold scales reflecting the undoing of mind and memory. As your scales flow, so too shall the mold seep deep into the crevices of thought, and as the creepy crawlies scurry through barren dreams, so shall Colm O’Driscoll’s wrath consume every shard of my Dutch's former self. Go ndéana an diabhal goid do chuid cuimhní cinn! Go ndéana an diabhal goid do chuid cuimhní cinn! Go ndéana an diabhal goid do chuid cuimhní cinn!”

In the gathering gloom, unfurl the serpent. Stand tall before your accursed space, the serpent and snakeskin coiled tightly around your wrist — a testament to the curse’s impending effect. In your grasp, the creature shall pulse with ancient malice, its scales reflecting the wan light. Let its presence be both a guide and an enforcer. Gently, yet inexorably, caress the serpent along your forearm. As its sinuous form ascends, bind the fate of your target to the slow spread of decay and the erosion of memory. “O thou serpent of forbidden lore, with scales that mirror the fragments of lost yore, bind the mind of my sworn enemy, strand by fragile strand, so their thoughts scatter like shadows upon barren land. Anail nathrach, do che'l de'nmha. Anail nathrach, tiera nathrach. Anail nathrach, orth' bhais's bethad, do che'l de'nmh.” Feel the cold slide of scales against your flesh, the serpent’s hiss carrying the promise of corruption. Its presence, commanding and unyielding, is the physical emblem of the curse’s true potency.

In this next phase, you must meld some of the materials together. Spread the thick mold upon a crude, blackened slate and allow its spores to rise in the stagnant air. With the cursed blade, score incisions deep into the surface of the slate, each stroke a mark of the target’s future disintegration. Gather the unholy horde of creepy crawlies, releasing them over the mold as they writhe and huddle. Their tiny legs, carrying the ceaseless pulse of decay, become attendants to the curse. “Let the mold, the creeping blight of decay, enshroud the mind in its insidious embrace; like tendrils of despair, may its spores embed in memory’s hidden space. And with each crawling creature, may confusion rise, each mindless scuttle a herald of the brain's demise. As Colm’s shadow lurks behind every fragment of shattered thought, so too shall certainty fall, and forgetfulness be wrought.” With deliberate motions, stir the mold and the crawlies together — their mingled essence a physical manifestation of the creeping, inexorable loss of clarity. Allow this abhorrent mixture to settle in a goblet, reserved to receive the final recitation. The answer to clarity is dissolving, each insect’s tiny body marks a memory choked away by the encroaching sickness.

Now, it is time to summon the specter of Colm O’Driscoll. His name, a sinister whisper from a past drenched in blood, shall serve to anchor the curse in the realm of irretrievable loss. With the athame drawn, trace an inverted pentagram in the air, each movement linking the target’s fate with that of Colm’s ruthlessness. “Colm O’Driscoll! Phantom Stranger and the Dark Lord of Decay's Great Feast, whose very name is a dirge for honor’s defeat, I call upon your spirit, relentless and severe, bring your bitter judgment upon this wretched fear. Let your gaze, cold as winter’s unyielding chill, pierce the veil of memory, your malice to fulfill.” Allow your eyes to close as these words echo into the darkness. Imagine Colm O’Driscoll’s hardened visage emerging from the shadows — an ever-watchful sentinel ready to cast his doom upon the mind. The hilt of your athame should glow faintly as his legacy intertwines with the curse, ensuring that forgetfulness and confusion will be the target’s everlasting companions.

[I will continue this in a reblog. Apparently, I overexceeded the Tumblr word limit without even knowing]

[valley0fstorms]

Misery Loves Company

A little thing I wrote in 2022 about Faust, published here on ao3. I still like it so I hope you enjoy it! TW: Mentions of Self Harm and Suicide

A man sat alone in his room, his body scared. The ones from battle he had known well, and the ones that were self inflicted he knew even better. It had been centuries since the revolution in the Central Country. Centuries had passed since he had let so many people down and led them to their deaths.

He had contemplated suicide before, he craved an end befit of a murderer, but he never went through with it. Dying was a coward's way out. Living was a much more painful punishment. When the world deemed him fit to die, he would.

He hated the thought of it. The thought of him living on when so many of the young wizards under him had been slain weighed on him. He had once believed it to have been for a noble cause, that their sacrifices would mean something, but when he was raised onto that pyre, he realized he had been wrong. He realized that the humans his comrades had fought and died for thought nothing more of them than as weapons. 

He was over 400 years old now; the Central Kingdom had thrived after the revolution under the Granvelle rule. After being saved by his friend and former servant, he ran. He didn't want to have to see or be near the humans. He didn't want to be anywhere near the country he had helped to build. 

He ran east, deep into the wild where no human would want to go. A place perfect for him. He built a new life deep within it. A house by a river deep within a cursed valley. The only disturbances he had were those of nature, but he didn't mind. 

He had planted seeds in the area around his new home. Plants bloomed, drawing creatures near. The birds would nest in the trees nearby, the fish of the river would splash and swim, and the creatures would run and play outside. The sights made him happy. It numbed the scars that weighed on him, even if only for a moment. Even if he believed he didn't deserve solace, the land around him gave it. 

He had made a new life for himself. He made sure that no one, unless desperate, would even want to disturb his peace. He painted his image as a curseworker so that humans wouldn't disturb his quiet life of regret and atonement, else he risk doing more damage to himself. 

It's been a few decades since he became a Sage's Wizard, a task he found bothersome. Before now, he simply needed to wait on the cursed day to arrive. After the last confrontation, however, his normal life changed. His comrades had died once more. The entirety of the Southern Wizards, half of the Western Wizards, half of the Central Wizards, and half of his own Eastern Wizards. The only one who survived under him had been the heir of Blanchett.

He, too, had almost died. He'd almost been turned to stone and his miserable, regret-filled life would have ended… but the other surviving Wizards managed to summon a new sage. 

He was saved by a human from another world.

Since then, he had begrudgingly agreed to stay at the Sage's manor. It felt like more trouble than it was worth, however, as the sage had to summon more wizards to replace their fallen comrades. Among those ten summoned wizards, there were three he wished to avoid. 

A teacher, a friend, and a traitor.

The teacher had taught him magic. There was a time when he looked up to him, but the teacher had turned tail. The friend had protected him throughout the revolution. They worked well together, and his devotion was unwavering, but he did not want the friend to die as the rest of his comrades did. The traitor was not a traitor, he was the descendant of one. The descendant was the spitting image of a Granvelle, of the one who put him upon the pyre.

He had never expected to see them. He didn’t want to see them. They were all fragments of his past who came back to haunt him. There was another among them, as well. A boy from the Central Kingdom who reminded him of his foolish past self. A boy dedicated to his faith and his role to help humans. The man felt a sense of pity for him, but minded his business. If the boy wished to go down his current path, he could.

He was aware of his standing in the Central Kingdom. He was aware of his status as a savior and saint. He hated it. He hated how the traitor allowed for his actions against him to be dismissed and instead worshiped him as a hero. He was never a hero. If he was anything, he was a murderer. 

In a way, his solitude was a constant punishment and reminder of his failure to act. He preferred it this way. The change in pace brought about by the new sage, however, gave him a chance to connect to others in ways he hadn’t since the revolution. He had his doubts, but he went along to see where it got him, and so far, it seemed to be going well.

A knock came from the door, the familiar voice of a human coming from the other side.

“Faust! Nero finished breakfast, come down when you’re ready!”

Faust smiled at the voice. 

The first human he had trusted since Alec. 

[collectorcookie]

It wasnt with any instance in mind specifically but i have seen some great mhyk cisbends actually. And i love the idea of fem arthur! I hadnt considered faust or heathcliffe but im on board now! I saw a tweet once that said mithra should grow boobs in tiletta's honor and i support that... i suppose the post was made with enstars in mind cuz ive been thinking about cis girl izumi lately (he's nonbinary to me in canon but i think his rship with his mom in portrait wouldve been sooo interesting with the added layer of daughters turning into their mothers... im also fond of hetbending loiz but for it to be no different whatsoever from their canon rship. But i also think iz-mk-lo would be interesting had they All been girls...)

But i also think transgenderism in wizard world would be interesting to explore, not just imagining what if they had been cis girls. I wonder if trans humans resent wizards for having the ability to transform themselves... or if, like with curseworkers or doctors, there are wizards who specialize in giving humans hrt potions and surgeries. In a world where murr was into medicine he wouldve brought hrt to humans so they wouldnt have to rely on wizards...

mithra SHOULD have boobs in tiletta's honor tbh. In my mind, cisbent mithra would go from wearing no bras because she dgaf to wearing pushup bras as a way to carry on tiletta's legacy.

Also NONBINARY IZUMI TRUTHER, I SHAKE YOUR HANDS

Izumakoleo as all girls...omg your mind....we could have the best yuri how did no one else think of this. As expected of the president o7 i salute

And now onto wizard genders: we do know of a few wizards with funky gender in canon. They can use magic to shapeshift after all. Here are a few i can think of at the top of my head. Spoilers for ms2 for everyone else but i'm sure you don't mind lol

Figaro mentions having a friend that is born a wizard, shapeshifted into a witch and stayed like that, even ended up carrying a baby to term and giving birth

There's a western witch who presents exclusively as a wizard in front of humans in ms2. I never even thought about how human-wizard dynamics might affect genderfluidity but that sure is interesting

Rustica has been a transguy to me since reading ms2. Idk if i am the only one interpreting it as that but i swear there's a part i read as him having been a western princess. Because of that i like to imagine/headcanon chloe is also a trans guy and kept the feminine name rustica style.

Figaro, man. Figgy is just. SO painfully transfem like omggggg. Besides being so Eldest Daughter™️ coded in northfam, the ridiculous amount of times he's been like "btw if anyone wants to see me as a beautiful woman pls let me know" girl do YOU want to be a beautiful woman??? It's definitely in character for fifi to be a certain way and then try as hard as possible to hide it, perhaps even lying to oneself about one's true nature.

[flavouredpotayto]

Helloooooo

I am here because you asked for questions sooo

What is your favourite ship from any fandom?

What are your favourite and least favourite fandoms you've been in?

Who are your current favourite artists?

What songs do you have on repeat right now?

Do you like cheese? (this one is very important.)

okay

god there’s too many umm evie and trystan ( assistant to the villain) and my biggest hear me out ships are dumblewald and these characters thats names i forgot from the curseworkers series

my favourite is the marauders and atla and least is maybe the penderwicks cuz the fandom is me myself and i

god, um harry styles solely for like 3 songs

keep driving, the 30th, 30/90, matilda, the cut that always bleeds, the exit

i had a cheese addiction as a child, now i like it less i need just the right amount but if theres too much i cant stand it

[sunshincwitch]

😮

Anathema's father : Raymond Abara Raymond Abara came from a family of necromancers from Louisiana. His parents had been recruited to join the Ironwood coven by the matriarchs, entreated to join to strengthen their covens bloodlines. As soon as Raymond began to show magical ability it was clear the correct decision had been made, and the matriarchs began making overtures to match him with the woman who had everyone's attention, the seventh daughter Proserpina Mors.  

The man could have rebelled, could have left or found someone else, but he was drawn to Proserpina, the promising curseworker with enough power to knock anyone flat on their ass. He found himself pulled back to her again and again, and he knew that when it came time for her to have her 7th child he would be there. The other men didn’t matter, or her other children if he was being honest, Ros and the 7th were what he cared about. There were other women for him as well. The nonmanogamy of the Ironwoods suited him just fine, but there was never a connection with any of them, they were all essentially place holders, a way to pass the time. 

Once Anathema was born though it became clear that the man was not the paternal type, fatherhood was not something natural for him. He disliked the inability to communicate with his infant daughter, and didn’t enjoy the toddler phase either, but once she was a bit older, once she started to show magical aptitude (and was able to speak in complete sentences) he began to really take interest. There was a part of him that was disappointed that his daughter did not take after him magically, but life is the other side of the coin of death, and he was determined to work with what he got. 

Raymond took it upon himself to tutor his daughter, there was no point in sending her to a traditional school, magic would be her study, her craft. He spent long days putting Anathema through her paces, strict lessons with painful consequences if she failed, hours studying rituals and sigils. It was Raymond who discovered, through the long hours of lessons, that they could siphon off Anathema’s magic to power his own workings. That they could take the spellwork and glyphs she created, and with a little tweak and change in the wordings and symbols create curses with devastating consequence. The similarities between life and death blur together as he twisted every spell of his daughter's creation, things meant to bring life and protection, wards to keep evil out, into spells that left only death and destruction, magical cages to trap and maim.  

When Anethema ran away he saw it as a weakness, a vessel who could not hold the vast amounts of power it had been blessed with. Her cowardice was a disappointment that destroyed generations of planning and efforts. So he was almost proud when she came back, eyes full of fire, spitting threats and insults as she told him how much he disgusted her. He had tried to fight back, he had, but even without using magic of her own Anathema knew enough about power to know how to cut off access to it. So as he floundered, thrown off balance at the sudden loss of power he had come so accustomed to, his daughter, the 7th daughter of a 7th daughter, who now called herself Chamomile after a plant so ordinary it grows like a weed on the side of the road, slit his throat and silenced him forever. 

Chamomile had sat with Raymond’s body for a long time, just to be sure, watching to make sure he didn’t come back as something altogether worse. And only when the sun started to rise its weak morning light illuminating the carnage surrounding her, her father’s cold sticky blood soaked into her clothes and staining her skin,  did she draw the final glyphs that would ensure his soul could not escape. And then she burned her childhood home to the ground, with his corpse lying on the kitchen floor.