#the serpent and the stag

[jamesregulusmarauders]

The Serpent and the Stag - Regulus/James, Remus/Sirius - Chapter 7/? Out!

[image credit]

James cursed under his breath. ‘Let me see. I mean it.’

Regulus didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop James from unbuttoning his shirt and gently opening the fabric.

‘What. The. Fuck.’

Regulus caught his wrist before he could touch the bandages.

‘Did the—’

‘It wasn’t a student.’

‘Then—’

‘It was …’ Regulus took a shuddering breath. ‘It was a dog, all right? A dog in Hogsmeade.’

James suddenly felt very, very off kilter. ‘A … dog?’ It took all his strength to hold in the sob of fear. ‘Were—’ He swallowed hard. ‘—were you bit?’

FIC LINK

[jadeseadragon]

Luke Hillestad, b. 1982, based in St Paul, Minnesota

[beloveds-embrace]

based on this, in which reader gets herself a pet. human reader x fae poly 141

Masterlist

It arrived on the windless night of a blood moon, when the palace gardens groaned beneath the weight of twilight and the fae refused to speak its name.

Hooves like thunder cracked through the sacred grove- guards scattered, maids screamed, and even the birds took flight. A monster, they had called it. An omen. A curse carved in flesh and antler.

It stood twice the height of a man, its coat the color of grave-ash and bone. Its antlers, sprawling, twisted branches, curved like cruel iron and dripped with a red too thick to be dew. And its eyes- gods, its eyes. Hollow pits of starlight and sorrow, as if someone had scooped the soul clean out of it and left only the husk of judgment behind.

A nightmare. A spirit of the dying woods.

And you- of course, you- had followed the trail of unease and found it standing alone in the frostbitten clearing, still as stone.

Simon was the first of them to find you. The maids had burst into his chamber in a flurry of panic, dresses half-tied, hair undone. “She’s in the gardens- with it!” one had shrieked. And though he would later claim it was the sense of duty that dragged him down the hall and into the trees, it was something more base that curled in his gut.

Fear.

He had thought it might be too late.

But there you were, soft and quiet and terribly unafraid.

The creature loomed before you, its head dipped low, antlers mere inches from your throat- and your hand… your hand was stroking its snout like it was nothing more than a skittish hound.

“There now,” you whispered, thumb rubbing a slow circle just below its glowing eye sockets. “You’re alright. You’re not so scary, are you, sweetheart?”

Simon’s body went taut, every muscle locked as he stepped from the trees, blade drawn, breath like winter in his lungs.

“Step. Back.” he’d have barked- only he didn’t; the words curled up and died in his throat.

Because the stag didn’t move.

Didn’t growl.

Didn’t even blink.

It merely stood there, regal and terrible, allowing you to fuss over it like you were some holy creature instead of a too-small, too-human queen with a ribbon loose in your hair and your gowns flowing freely.

And your voice- gods, your voice- was the softest he’d heard in months. Not the clipped elegance of the court-mask you wore, not the sharp-tongued wit you wielded to hold your place among serpents and silver smiles.

Just you.

Calling the monster a good boy.

The bestest boy.

After that, it never truly left.

The court howled. Lords and ladies twisted their pretty lips into horror, whispering stories of famine and madness wherever a Hollow Stag appeared. It had been centuries since one last walked beside fae- or anyone. But this one did.

It followed you, and you named it Thrain, and Simon wanted to curse you for you did not know that by naming such a terrible thing, you had allowed it close.

He huffed at the guards, growled at the courtiers, and once kicked a sconce clean off the wall when Johnny whistled at you from across the hall.

He tolerated your husbands, but only just.

Simon couldn’t look at it without remembering your hand brushing over death’s brow like it was silk. Kyle swore the thing glared at him every time he touched your elbow. Johnny made jokes, tried to offer it dried fruit, only to have Thrain snort directly in his face and blow his mohawk-braid loose.

But never you.

Never once did it bare its fangs to you.

Thrain was silent at your side, looming like a second shadow in the throne room, ever behind your chair, because no one had the courage or audacity to say it shouldn’t be allowed inside. When you took solitary picnics- because even with jewels and titles and sharpened fae smiles, you were still lonely- he followed.

You’d sit beneath the weeping trees, skirts spread across the moss, fingers tangled in the vines as your voice hummed old, human songs, and he’d curl his massive body around you. His head, crown of dripping antlers and all, would lower into your lap. You’d scratch behind his ears, resting your cheek against the dry velvet of his muzzle like he wasn’t made of nightmare and ruin.

Sometimes you’d whisper to him.

Your secrets.

Your weariness.

The truth you wouldn’t dare breathe to your husbands.

Because even now- even with John’s gaze growing hungrier by the day, even with Kyle’s hand brushing yours too long beneath shared parchments, even with Simon’s brooding presence lurking protectively near and Johnny’s restless, nervous laughter softening when you were tired-

You didn’t know if they loved you.

The human you; the one who had no glamour in her blood, no ancient fire in her bones.

But Thrain did.

And sometimes, that was enough.

[maimoncat]

Ok, so I'd like to add someone who also was part of this big current, but isn't that well known nowadays: Carlo Gozzi was a venetian writer who, between 1761 and 1777 collaborated with the theatre company of Antonio Sacchi. He was strongly against the innovations of the Enlightenment in society and literature, and tried to save the italian theatre practice of the “Commedia dell’arte”, which lost popularity against new forms of drama.

He found a way to do it with his “fiabe teatrali”, theatre fairy tales, ten comedies that were inspired by folk and literary tales, taken from Basile, Straparola, Sarnelli, but especially the french “cabinet des Fées”, particularly the ones taken from “1001 days”. These pieces would use fantastical settings typical of the Commedia dell’arte, in which the mask characters could improvise comedic scenes, while he also wrote in scathing satires of contemporary literary and social fashions.

Gozzi was particularly against Carlo Goldoni, who tried to modernize italian theatre with more realism (and who is the only author among these who is still well-known and popular in Italy today), and Pietro Chiari, who used very melodramatic scenes and flowery language. Caricatures of these two even appear in the first fairy tale, “the love for the three oranges: Goldoni appears as the down-to-earth magician Celio, who is lessclever than he thinks, and Chiari appears as the snobbish and depressing Morgan le Fay.

The crazy thing is that this project really worked! By 1762 the Sacchi company had already overshadowed Goldoni and Chiari, and until 1765 they were still incredibly succesful in Venice. The popularity was also because of the imaginative special effects for the time, especially used in the transformation scenes.

While in Italy he was quickly forgotten, Gozzi enjoyed a lot of popularity during the 19th century in Germany, by Lessing, Schlegel, Goethe and Schiller and during the 20th century in Russia. Many adapted his fairy tales for the stage, like Ludwig Tieck, who used “la Zobeide” in his opera “Blaubart”, Hoffman, for his “Princess Brambilla”, Prokofyev for “L’amour des trois oranges”, Hans Werner Henze’s “König Hirsch” and many others.

But certainly Gozzi’s most influential piece was his retelling of Turandot, which inspired Giacomo Puccini’s last unfinished opera.

@infinitelytheheartexpands

A Fairy Tale Rabbit Hole

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is the movie that it started it all for Disney Animation and it's the most influential fairy tale movie ever. Its tropes and its tone still inspires fairy tale media to this day, either as parodies, or homages.

But what less people know is that Walt Disney was inspired to make this movie because of a peculiar silent movie that he watched when he was a teenager.

That movie was Snow White from 1916. Its writer, Winthrop Ames, adapted it from his own Broadway play. An example of American fairy tale theater.

This kept me thinking.

The Wizard of Oz is one of the most iconic fantasy films of all time, and it was made in direct response to Snow White. What people don't know is that the scene where Glinda saves the gang from the deadly poppies with a snowstorm came straight from a fairy tale musical from 1902. It came from The Wizard of Oz, a fairy tale musical "extravaganza", with direct input from L. Frank Baum, only two years after the original novel.

Actually, stage musicals seem to take a slight part in the creation of Oz. The Marvellous Land of Oz, the sequel, seems to be inspired by this stage culture. General Jinjur and her army dresses like chorus girls, Ozma/Tip may be inspired by the crossdressing in children roles, and this was the book's dedication:

"To those excellent good fellows and comedians David C. Montgomery and Frank A. Stone whose clever personations of the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow have delighted thousands of children throughout the land, this book is gratefully dedicated by THE AUTHOR"

These were actors of the 1902 stage show.

Two years later, on 1904 Peter and Wendy premiered. This play is also one of the most famous children stories ever. Walt Disney himself acted as Peter in a local production of it and Tinkerbell quickly became a mascot for the studio.

This all led me to think more about fairy tale theater specifically.

Since the ending of the 18th century and through the 19th century, a genre of stage show developed through Europe. It was mostly comedic and light-hearted, mainly inspired by fairy tales, and it was geared towards children and families. It involved lavish fantasy spectacles told through operas, ballets, and what we today would call "musical theater".

It had many different names and variations depending on the country.

On England, it evolved through the pantomimes and it became a Christmas tradition.

In Russian, it was mainly through ballet, called the ballet-féerie, often considered a lower-class, more commercialized entertainment than traditional ballet. Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty and The Nutcracker are among some of them. Sleeping Beauty would later inspire Disney's telling of the story.

In France they were called Féerie, and it was a mix of music, dancing, pantomime, acrobatics, and stage effects. It influenced the development of burlesque, musical comedy and film.

From Wikipedia:

With his 1899 film version of Cinderella, Georges Méliès brought the féerie into the newly developing world of motion pictures. The féerie quickly became one of film's most popular and lavishly mounted genres in the early years of the twentieth century, with such pioneers as Edwin S. Porter, Cecil Hepworth, Ferdinand Zecca, and Albert Capellani contributing fairy-tale adaptations in the féerie style or filming versions of popular stage féeries like Le Pied de mouton, Les Sept Châteaux du diable, and La Biche au bois. The leader in the genre, however, remained Méliès,[37] who designed many of his major films as féeries and whose work as a whole is intensely suffused with the genre's influence.[38]

Once you realize a huge chunk of fairy tale media has roots in family friendly stage shows from 19th century, a lot of it started making sense.

The focus on romance, the focus on damsels in distress, prevalence of lighter tones, the everlasting connection to music and dance.

They may be the main reason why some fairy tales are more famous than others. Some became source material for a continuous stream of operas, operettas, musical extravaganzas, ballets, plays, and others simply not.

And besides the Victorian Era storybooks that bowdlerized fairy tales for children, I think this whole genre of the theater was responsible to firmly establish fairy tales as a child friendly media, decades before Disney ever released Snow White to cash in that nostalgia.

If you have something to add or if I just got something wrong, feel free to correct me.

@ariel-seagull-wings @princesssarisa @adarkrainbow @the-blue-fairie @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @natache @tamisdava2 @thealmightyemprex

[simp-ly-writes]

Winterfell & Wolves

─────── · · Dreams of Dragons (pt.4)

PAIRING: Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Targaryen!Reader, Cregan Stark x Reader

SUMMARY: Rescued from a snowstorm by the Starks, you find yourself warming up the house more ways than one. Meanwhile your lack of presence in the Red Keep definitely does not go unnoticed as Rhaenyra learns the truth behind her Uncle's apparent obsession with you.

TAGS: alternate universe, canon divergence, no use of y/n, second person perspective, female pronouns used, coarse language, protective!Daemon, angst, blood and gore, hurt/comfort, soulmates, time travel, targ-cest, engine-translated high valyrian, not beta read. MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,910 | PRIOR | NEXT A/N: wrote this on my commutes, kinda (well very) angsty but we get a new POV!

─────── · ·

YOU STIR FROM YOUR SLEEP AS THE HORSE COMES TO A HALT, THE SOUND OF LARGE SPRUCE DOORS CREAKING OPEN ON IORN HINGES MAKES YOUR EARS RING. Picking up your head and blinking away the blurriness of your vision you notice half a dozen people standing on the front steps to House Stark of Winterfell as you stop just in front of them.

"She is awake," Cregan Stark notes whilst dismounting, he offers his hand to help you down as you slide off the saddle and grit your teeth as your feet touch the snow.

A young woman rushes over, presenting you a pair of slippers with an anxious smile, "these were the best we had on hand, your highness, we will get you-" You place your hand on the girls shoulder and offer her a smile once feeling her tense underneath your hold.

"These are wonderful, thank you. I know you were not expecting me and nor was I expecting to be here," you turn to face the Stark, tipping your head down to show your gratitude, "I thank you for all your generosity."

You look up to see as Cregan nods, his hand extends out from his side, motioning you forwards and indoors yet you pause in your steps once noticing he does not join you right away. His back faces you now, you watch as he pats the horses neck, talking to a group of men and boys who also wear the crest of a wolf upon their chest.

They each carry a weighted blade upon their backs with the youngest holding a bow in between their hands. "The stag is wounded, North still tracks its scent into the eastern woods, if you go now you should be back before nightfall."

The group presses a fist to their chest, bowing their heads before moving towards the gates. The youngest boy waves shyly over to you which you return with a playful wink before seeing as he takes the reigns of the horse and scurries out of view.

"As a boy I was told it was rude to stare," the Stark comments before turning to face you, he stands at the bottom of the steps, you both eye level with one another. You feel as your hair is taken by the wind, you do your best to pull it away from your face as you speak, "Who is North?"

He tilts his head, eyes cast to the side in contemplation before looking back at you, tone even and carrying sincerity, "They are the Wolf that found you." You raise a brow, "Just a wolf?" you press forwards, you hadn't studied much about creatures other than dragons and water serpents, though the latter you still questioned if they truly existed.

"Direwolf, you have dragons, we have wolves," Cregan explains before continuing up the steps and holds the door open for you. You step through the threshold and are met with warmth as hundreds of candles burn in the alcoves between arched doorways. At the end of the hall is a large tapestry of two wolves playing in falling snow underneath the moon.

"Your home is warm," you smile, you hear as Cregan lets a small breath of air out of his noise in a quiet laugh. "And yours is not?" he says in a lightened tone, walking forwards- expecting you to follow him down a series of twisting halls as stone floors turn to wood ones. The ceilings lower slightly by the support of pillars and trusses that frame the stained glass windows.

"The Red Keep is colder than anyone expects, even the breath of a dragon does little to warm its halls," you answer whilst stepping into a another room. A large wooden desk covered in papers and books sits across from a two-story fireplace made of boulders and stones. A fire burns brightly from within as extra logs are stacked beside to keep the flame.

A small sitting area sits just off to the side divided by the pelt of a bear, its open mouth and eyes watch as you enter the space and take a seat on the stones in front of the fire. You slip the fur cloak off from your shoulders and fold it on your lap, presenting it to the man that kneels before you.

He silently takes it, placing it on the floor by his side as he checks over your wounds. Placing your hands in your lap you look anywhere but him as he gently takes your leg, placing it on his thigh as he picks away the fallen leaves on your bruised knee with foreign gentleness. You flush as his hand slides down the back of your leg to your ankle, your squeeze your hands together, if either of my fathers stepped foot into this room now, are the thoughts you distract yourself with yet the Stark thinks you to be in pain.

"I apologize for your pain, princess, but I had to check, your bruises have deepened a few shades," Cregan says as you swallow deeply. He lowers your ankle slowly to the floor before checking over your other ankle and you clear your throat before responding, "I think the snow has frozen any pain I have felt... I have just never been treated my anyone other than my Maesters."

Cregan nods, "Then I am sorry to be your first," his tone quiet and overtly sincere and throw your head back laughing and try to speak between gasps of air, "It was not my intention to insult you, Lord Stark."

"I know, but I am sorry nonetheless," he sets down your other leg before brushing his thighs and standing. He walks towards his desk, leaning over to grab a pitcher and two cups before retuning to you.

"A Maester is on their way from the barracks, they should arrive in the hour. Would you like for me to word to the King?" You pause in taking the cup from his hand as he sits beside you as you look towards the fire in between you two. The Stark watches your hesitation with a piqued interest.

His hand rests closer to yours on the stone bench as he leans forwards, "Do you... not wish to return home? Has something happened that we have yet to hear word of?" Your eyes widen before shaking your head, you take a large sip from your cup before responding, "Everything is as it should be back home, for better... or for worse. I..." you pause before meeting his eyes, your hand creeps forwards, your fingertips brushing against one another, "...I am just tired after the stresses of lately but I would hate more to intrude upon-"

"It is an honour to host the princess," Cregan cuts you off before holding your hand in a silent apology for overstepping with his words. You savour the moment, feeling the various small scars and indents across his warm skin before seeing his brown hair flash silver and you quickly pull away- looking towards your lap.

"I was told the north is cold in more ways than one yet everyone I have met so far has been kind, even to the weather," you comment, looking over the space, leaning back against the stone as you pick at the dried blood on your arms.

"It is our duty to serve the weather, to serve the North. My ancestors ancestors understood that, as did yours, that there are greater evils up here than in the South. And so we must measure kindness and ruthlessness as equals to survive." You listen to the pride in his tone, watch the way he sits that much straighter as you know he must have been trained to do so since a young age.

"Your sense of duty is truly admirable," you offer the man a smile in which he returns with albeit a smaller one only noticeable in the soft crinkles by the corners of his eyes. "What is more admirable is to compare my devotion as higher than your own, Dragon-guide."

You are silent, eyes widening as he looks over your form. "You know who I am?"

"It is the Song of Fire and Ice," Cregan notes, downing the rest of his drink before standing at the sound of footsteps nearing the entry way. He turns back to look at you before opening the door, "I shall be in the next room if you need me." You simply nod, head still spinning with the new information as an older man steps forward, bowing deeply to you before walking forwards.

Cregan lingers watching as various bottles and tools are taken out from the Maester's satchel and lined up on the mantel before moving to step out of the room, pausing at the sound of your voice as you see over the Maesters shoulder, "Your cloak, Lord Stark." You move to stand, picking up the fur yet he raises a palm to halt your actions.

"Keep it for the duration of your stay, Princess Targaryen." And the door closes softly behind him.

─────── · ·

The Maester looks up, a knowing look in his eye as he begins to clean your wounds, humming to himself.

"What is Lord Stark like as a leader?" you question to the Maester as he pauses in his actions before counting his work, "he is a just leader with a strong mind. He took down his father to take his current Lordship and has never made anyone question his ability. He is a good man, your highness, as he is also an unmarried one at that."

You look off to the side and out through a window as snow softly falls and melts against the glass. "Dragons and wolves-hm?" you question to yourself quietly. The Maester hums a brighter tune in response before asking you to turn. You hiss as ointment hits the gash on your face.

"There is pain before there is healing," the Maester comments seeing as you grip the stones beneath you. "I see that now," you speak through gritted teeth. "I will work as quickly as I can, your highness." And you nod in thanks, tears beginning to well in your eyes as you breathe through the deep stinging feeling before releasing a long breath once it is finally over.

"Should I call for the staff to take you to your room, your highness?" the Maester asks, placing his emptied bottles and tools back into his bag. You open your mouth to respond but before you can Cregan steps back into the room in more relaxed garbs, his hands are placed behind his back as he dismisses the Maester.

"I shall show her to her rooms and introduce her as host, take care Maester Evos," the Lord Stark commands watching as the other man exists the room before offering his hand to help you stand.

Before you do, you reach down to grab the forgotten clock, setting it under your arm before taking his as he leads you back down the hall and towards a separate wing. Three girls stand at the end of the hall, each one bowing in a row to you both. "These are to be your staff, Alexi, Eda, and Lyah," Cregan explains to you, his hand lingers on your arm as you feel the stares of the girls focus in on your connection.

You smile, "I thank you for your service in advance."

"A bath is readied for you, your highness... should we prepare you for dinner afterwards?" They look towards there Lord as do you finding him already peering down at you in a silent ask, is this what you wish?

You raise your head, "It would be an honour to dine with the Lord Stark." Your chuckle in seeing him hastily look away and hear as he clears his throat, Dragons and their fire, he murmurs before dismissing himself.

You watch as he leaves before following the staff into your guest chambers. The rooms are fit with blue wallpaper, various hand drawn designs encompass the space. A fur rug is settled underneath a canopy bed, a warn arm chair nestled beside the fireplace and to the next room over you find the bath already filled.

You allow your tattered dress to fall and be disposed off before stepping into the hot waters and allow yourself to sink into the bubbles. You lean back against the walls of the tub and listen to their idle gossip. Hands begin to massage soap and oils into your scalp and watch as another readies your gown and shoes on a table in the corner of the room.

"I heard local clans have been spotted tampering with the wall-" Alexi begins to speak before being cut off by a scoff.

"Well they really must have a death wish- one that accounts for all of mankind," Eda says, flattening out your gown and picking off specks of dirt.

"They hope that the chaos will bring them an opportunity to uprise," Lyah counters whilst rinsing your hair.

"But our lord serves us well... why would they play against his hand?" Alexi mumbles to herself, turning around to grab a stack of linen towels.

"Well how am I supposed to know?" Eda says and you can almost hear her eyes roll and thats when you decide to speak up, startling the ladies that surround who thought you to be asleep in the tub.

"There are different levels to need that others struggle to see depending on where they chart. Why take from the hand when you can be the hand? Or better yet... be the one who decides who gets hands in the first place," you watch as the women look between one another before continuing their work.

"You are wiser than your years and we all apologize, your highness, we thought you were resting-" Eda flushes, grasping her hands in front of herself with a weary smile.

"Nonsense!" you pick your bubble-covered hand up with a soft chuckle, "it has been quite some time since I've been able to hear the talk of the people," you explain and watch as each slowly relaxes the muscles in their body.

"Are you allowed out of the castle much?" Alexi begins to ask before being swatted by Lyah, a pointed look is shared yet you answer honestly, "no, I'm afraid not with my condition or without another member of my family as my uncle tells me."

"I am sorry to hear that, princess," Alexi's head tips down. You push yourself out of the bath, grabbing one of the towels to wrap around your hair, the other you begin to dry yourself off with before the girls move you to a stool where your hair and face are prepared before you step into the gown. Its fabric is a deep grey with silver accents, not too different than what you wore in the Red Keep.

Yet besides the dragons that usually crawled up your form, wolves danced around the bottom of your skirt so that if you spun they would become an animated run. "It is gorgeous," your hands drift across the material.

"It was our Lord's late mother's collection from her younger years," Eda explains and you freeze at her words before beginning to protest, "Surely I cannot-"

"The Lord brought it as forwards as an option, there are others if you do not like it but this one was closest to your size," Lyah reassures you before presenting you a pair of gloves to wear, "if you decide to go out later," she quickly explains and you grab them, tucking the pair into your belt.

"Thank you all for preparing me," you smile graciously.

"When else could we dress a princess?" Alexi smiles, bowing her head as you laugh before telling her to raise, "well then I wish for another princess to grace your halls in the future." Yet your words do not comfort the girl, her smile fading, "You are not to stay?"

Eda and Lyah share a look behind your back that you catch in the mirrors reflection. "I must return to my duties soon, I do not wish to think of the chaos that awaits my return."

Alexi does not respond, simply opening the door to the hall as you follow behind her towards the dining room where the Lord of Winterfell can be seen overlooking the mountain peaks.

"The Princess Targaryen, my lord," a guard announces by the door. You watch as Cregan pivots on his heel, his head tips towards you in greeting yet he takes his time looking on the way back up.

"It fits," he states as everyone clears out of the room behind you. Placing your hands behind your back you walk up to stand beside the lord, peering out the window to take in the view, you do not ask for clarification for his words, mistaking yourself for thinking too deeply on the matter and change conversation.

"By the morning I should be well rested enough to send correspondence, the Maester said all my injuries were minor once cleaned properly," you announce, keeping your view to the snow-peaked mountains- feeling Cregan's stare.

"Is your leave to take place in the early morning hours? Or could I show you the true north?" You look down at the wolves on your dress, smiling as you shift the weight between your feet.

"Sending a letter by evening works as well, perhaps better they are to receive it in the morning," you question aloud and face the Stark who extends their hand, "hungry?"

You take his hand, "famished," you answer as he leads you both towards the table already set. Cregan pulls out your chair before sitting at his own. He pours out two glasses of wine before leaning back, eyes reflecting the flames of the fire on the other side of the room.

"Is the direwolf, North, yours?" you ask, cutting into a steamed carrot on your plate.

"Yes, we bond similarly to how you do with dragons," you know his words are not meant to hurt you yet you can do little to hide the pain in your eyes knowing that you, a Targaryen, do not have one to call your own.

"I have seen to misspoke," Cregan clears his throat upon seeing your sadness before changing topics. Conversation flows easily afterwards as you bring up childhood stories, talk about your differing cultural traditions and events.

─────── · ·

Next thing you knew night had transitioned into the early morning hours as you stood in front of your bedroom door. Cregan bowed his head, wishing you a goodnight, his eyes lingering- waiting for you to disappear from his sight.

You turn away, blushing underneath his gaze, your hand wraps around the cold metal door handle, squeaking slightly as you begin to turn it before pausing and looking back at the Lord over your shoulder.

"Would it be... overstepping as a guest to say that your kindness gains more than my thanks." The air stills, your breaths tightly and uneven as you wait for his response. You feel his warmth approaching your back, feel as his hand brushes a strand of hair away from your shoulder, his warm fingertips lingering against your skin.

"I think..." another long pause, "...that we both should rest and become clearer headed before pursuing anything, your highness." You swallow, nodding your head gently before shielding yourself behind the safety of your door.

Your heart sting more than just a light rejection- it burns and pains you physically leaving you feeling hollow with.... guilt? But I need a huband... father demands it. You quickly discard your layers, a growing anxiety has you feeling light headed as lay upon the covers in your chemise whilst picking at your skin.

The lingering memory of Cregan's touch sends a shutter down your spine as your head finds the pillows and you bring your knees up towards your chest. Years worth of memories of your parents- dragon masters you correct yourself, condemning you for wanting friendship and attention from men in your younger days slip past your eyes.

Always so persistent it confused you to no end while you watched your friends kissing in the school yard, getting partners, hooking up, or even getting married and you had never even come close to brushing hands nevertheless kissing a boy... and today it seemed your curiosity peaked, you feel disturbed by your mixed feelings on the matter, tossing and turning throughout the early morning hours before the girls come with a tray of breakfast and a new gown for you to wear.

─────── · ·

By the time you are prepared and the Stark's fur cloak sits heavy upon your shoulders, you step out into the front courtyard to see a number of black horses standing in wait, supplies draped over their body and men at arms awaiting their Lords orders. Cregan stand in the middle, his baritone echos against the stone walls as he delegates tasks and orders alike.

You catch eyes with a familiar golden-eyed and white-fur wolf who tilts their head in your direction. North remains seated in between the Lords legs as you step closer to the crowd that slowly dies down upon seeing your presence.

"Good Morrow, princess," Cregan greets you, bowing his head as does everyone else around you. You straighten your shoulders as you tip your head in reply, "Lord Stark, are we to travel to the wall?"

"Yes-" North stirs at Cregan's knee, their snout pressing into your thick gown curiously. Clearing his throat the wolf meets his eyes, an almost silent conversation is held before Cregan kneels, hand resting at the back of the animals neck.

"North wishes to greet you, your highness." Your eyes light up with excitement that you do nothing to conceal as you hastily bend down and extend your hand, feeling as the cold wet nose presses against your palm as you pat the wolfs head. Cooing as their eyes close.

"Are you not the sweetest creature?" You rhetorically question, hand moving to scratch behind their ear. A chorus of laughs can be heard around you, "I believe that sweetest creature has ripped the throats out of a dozen foes just this week," a voice comes from the crowd that you cast a small smile towards before turning you attention back to North.

"The sweetest man-killer, I stand corrected," you clarify underneath your breath, and catch a small chuckle coming from the lord who stands seeing as the animal would not attack you anytime soon.

"Have you ridden before, princess?" you cast your gaze upwards, eyes gleaming with a number of thoughts and prior dreams that would be unbecoming of someone of your status as you answer simple, "yes," standing as a horse is brought forth.

You hesitate for a moment seeing the height of the stallion before a pair of gloved hands are on your waist, helping you up onto the saddle. You and Cregan share a look before you watch as he easily saddles up and casts his hand to the side in a silent as for you to join him.

You trot over, a sudden gust of cold air eats at your face as the gates open, "Are you ready to see the truth North, your highness?" You watch as North dashes out ahead of you, emitting a howl before disappearing into the barred white landscape.

"I am," you respond confidently.

─────── · ·

THE RED KEEP HAD NEVER FITTED ITS NAME BETTER AS BLOOD COULD BE SEEN SPLATTERED UPON THE FORTRESSES WALLS AND POOLING ON ITS FLOORS. Screams could be heard echoing down the hall that Rhaenyra peered down from around a stone corner. Her eyes cast to the Rogue Prince holding the last of your personal guard pressed against the wall, their feet kicking at the stones and dirt, their nails digging into the hands at their throat.

The Princes words were quiet and deathly so in comparison to the loud start to his massacre once his brother finally brought forth the news that you were no where to be found. Your night shawl the only evidence of your disappearance the night prior hanging from your balcony.

Rhaenyra kept her footsteps light to try and keep herself hidden for as long as possible- hiding between pillars to try and hear more of the conversation. "Your ignorance took her from me and you will pay for you sin. You fight so hard for your minuscule life now while you should have fought just as hard for hers," Daemon all but growls lowly into the knights ear, his eyes drinking in their fear, his shoulders tense and shaking as he thinks to how you must have felt that night.

Rhaenyra gasps as dark violet eyes latch onto her presence. Her heart aches in her chest at the rising hopeful glint that swiftly dies once realizing she was the wrong princess. The man coughs as he is dropped to the floor. The Princess holds her spot and watches as the knight crawls towards her, his right hand missing half of its fingers reaches up towards her before a boot rests heavily between their shoulders, stopping any further movement.

Dark Sister gleams in the daylight as she raises to meet the suns rays. Rhaenyra swallows down the bile growing in her throat watching as her uncle stares at her with dead eyes before the knights head rolls, stopping down by her feet.

Daemon cleans off the blade on the beheaded mans cloth before kicking the head aside, "If you are here to denounce my actions on behalf of my brother, know that this is me refraining."

"I am not here to lecture you, Kepus (uncle), I am here to say that I feel the same-" Rhaenyra begins to speak, extending her hand to grab the Princes arm who flinches away.

"You had no idea what I feel," Daemon spits back, chest heaving, blood dripping down his chin and running down his neck. He raises his head, closing his eyes to try and not strike down your sister for irritating him with her words, "I have lost her too many times due to my brothers actions, his apparent lack of care and attention-"

"I have lost my sister just as you have your niece! So don't you dare speak of your pain above my own!" The Princess raises her tone, stepping forwards, hands balled into fists down at her sides.

Daemons chuckles are cold and empty as with every long stride he takes, Rhaenyra hastily takes one back down the hall followed by another with every word the Prince speaks, "If I cared for her just as my niece, just as you, than why do I constantly crave her presence? Why do I only know calm with the weight of her in my arms? Why do I ache for her?" The pair soon run out of hall as the Princess finds herself cornered, any initial anger she felt now overcome by her growing fear, "Why do I dream every night to feel the softness of her lips agains mine if she is just my-"

"You love her," Rhaenyra cuts her uncle off with a statement rather than a question. Daemons eyes cast away, his lips pressed, eyes distant. "You truly love her," she repeats again more softly to herself. That is why you never treated me the same... Her heart breaks in seeing the slow single nod she receives, "Then why does father not approve? It would fall in line with family tradition after all...."

Teeth is all she sees as Daemon steps away, spitting on a nearby corpse as he cracks his neck, back turned. "He wants you as queen, Rhaenyra, not your sister, you know that?"

"I do," she raises her head, eyes tracing over his broad shoulders.

"So you must understand, just like your father, that our union would make it easy to challenge you to that title."

Rhaenyra furrows her brow, head tilted in confusion that borders on frustration, "My sister does not want to become Queen though? I do not understand-"

"But he knows I do and so comes the second part..." Daemon turns to face Rhaenyra, "Viserys knows that I will obey whatever he demands of me with your sister as my prize-"

Rhaenyra, "My sister is not a prize to be won," she instinctively spits out, "but if she were to agree to take your hand then why does my father not demand that you don't become king in return?" She questions, starting to play with the end of her braid, eyes squinted as if trying to see the answer she seeks.

"And so now you understand my frustrations, Rhaenyra," Daemon swings his hands outwards before allowing them to drop at his sides, "He can ensure that you will not be dethroned and yet actively chooses not to..." Both royals stare at one another as the smell of copper stings both of their noses.

"There has to be something more to this," Rhaenyra steps around her uncle, walking back up the hall to try and clear her senses of the decomposing corpses that surround them. Daemon watches as she bites her lip, shaking her head slightly before looking around the room.

"If there were..." Daemon takes a few long strides to meet back up with the princess, "...I would have found the answers long ago...."

─────── · ·

PRIOR | NEXT

A/N: i don't know when i can get the next chapter out but i hope you all enjoyed this one 😊

─ · · DREAMS OF DRAGONS TAGLIST: @blkmystery @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @themoonlitquill @hnslchw @myownevils

[thecupidwitch]

Elements And Their Correspondences

Earth

Direction: North

Time: Midnight

Season: Winter

Color: Green, brown

Zodiac: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn

Ruling planets: Venus and Saturn

Tarot Cards: Pentacles, Coins

Tools: Pentacle, salt, stones, dirt, crystals, wood, flowers

Cystals: Emerald, Jet, tourmaline, quartz, onyx, azurite, amethyst, jasper, peridot, granite.

Animals: gopher, bear, wolf, ant, horse, stag, deer, dog, cow, bull, bison, snake, worms, moles, voles, grubs

Herbs: Oak, cedar, cypress, honeysuckle, ivy, primrose, sage, grains, patchouli, nuts, magnolia, comfrey, vetivert, moss, lilac, lichen, roots, barley, alfalfa, corn, rice.

Rules: Grounding, strength, healing, success, stability, sturdiness, steadfastness, foundations, empathy, fertility, death, rebirth, wisdom, nature, animals, plants, money, prosperity.

Water

Direction: West

Time: Dusk

Season: Fall

Color: Blue, Indigo, Sliver

Zodiac: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces

Ruling planets: Moon, Neptune, Pluto

Tarot Cards: Cups

Tools: Ocean, sea glass, cup, bowl, seaweed, hag stones, cauldron

Cystals: Moonstone, pearl, silver, aquamarine, amethyst, blue tourmaline, lapis lazuli, fluorite, coral, blue topaz, beryl, opal, coral

Animals: fish, snake, frog, crab, lobster, eel, shark, dragonfly, seahorse, dolphin, sea otter, seal, whale, alligator, crocodile, beaver, octopus, penguin, salamander, turtle, starfish, koi, coral, barnacle, manta ray, manatee, jellyfish, nautilus, heron, duck, geese, crane, swan, water birds, ammonite, dragons, serpents

Herbs: seaweed, aloe, fern, water lily, lotus, moss, willow, gardenia, apple, catnip, chamomile, cattail, lettuce, kelp, birch, cabbage, coconut, cucumber, comfrey, eucalyptus, gourd, geranium, grape, licorice, lilac, pear, strawberry, tomato

Rules: emotion, intuition, psychic abilities, love, unconscious mind, fertility, self-healing, reflection, lunar energy, deep feelings, curses, death

Fire

Direction: South

Time: Noon

Season: Summer

Color: Red, Orange

Zodiac: Aries, Leo, Sagittarius

Ruling planets: Sun, Mars

Tarot Cards: Wands or Swords (depends on belief system)

Tools: Athame, candles, swords, wands, dagger, lamp, flame

Cystals: Carnelian, red jasper, bloodstone, garnet, ruby, agate, rhodochrosite, gold, pyrite, brass, fire opal, lavastone, tiger's eye

Animals: Lion, snake, coyote, fox, ladybug, bee, shark, scorpion, horse, mantis, tiger

Herbs: Cinnamon, cloves, ginger, allspice, basil, cacti, marigold, chilis, garlic, mustard, nettle, onion, heliotrope, hibiscus, juniper, lime, orange, red pepper, poppies, thistle, coffee, jalapenos, lemon, cumin, saffron, coriander

Rules: Energy, will, destruction, strength, courage, power, passion, lust, sexuality, anger, war, new beginnings, protection, loyalty, transformation, action, movement, achievement, creativity, desire, willpower

Air

Direction: East

Time: Down

Season: Spring

Color: Yellow, gold, white, light blue, pastels

Zodiac: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Ruling planets: Mercury, Jupiter, Uranus

Tarot Cards: Wands

Tools: Feather, wand, staff, incense, broom, bell, sword, pen

Cystals: Amber, topaz, citrine, jasper, agate, pumice, alexandrite, amethyst, fluorite, mica, clear quartz

Animals: Birds, flying insects, spiders, bats

Herbs: Bergamot, lavender, marjoram, peppermint, sage, dandelion, bluebell, clover, frankincense, primrose, lemongrass, pine, aspen, yarrow, violets, vervain, myrrh, dill, anise, aspen

Rules: Intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, logic, thought, communication, truth, inspiration, intuition, memory, creativity

Tip jar

[pupsmailbox]

CRYPTID ID PACK

NAMES︰ abyss. alien. antler. apollo. azul. azure. barkscratch. belial. blade. blood. bloodhound. bone bones. buck. butcher. cain. carcass. carrion. cassius. celestia. circe. clawthorn. cloud. corpse. creature. critter. cry. crypt. cryptid. danger. dawn. dear. derby. dire. doc. dragon. drow. entiyne. eyesia. fae. fang. faun. fearprint. ghoul. gnasher. graves. grim. grimm. guts. hart. haunt. hide. hollow. hound. jawz. juno. katherine. keir. killer. komo. kraken. lagoona. locke. lucien. lumi. molar. morticia. mortis. moth. myst. mysterie. necro. night. oblivion. oisín. orion. phantom. poltergeist. rabid. raven. red. revenant. riegel. roadkill. roscoe. rot. sabel. scamper. scar. scatter. scum. scythe. serpent. shadow. shifter. shiver. shrill. siren. sky. skylar. snap. solace. sombre. specter. spector. spectre spite. spotlight. squid. stag. stalk. stare. stick. summer. sunday. sunny. teef. thunder. trix. unknown. vanessa. venus. vesper. vestige. via. voiddust. voider. wander. wanderer. watcher. wraith. wyvern. zeke.

PRONOUNS︰ abyss/abyssal. anom/anomoly. ant/antler. beast/beast. blood/bleed. brain/brain. canine/canine. chase/chase. chup/chup. ciph/cipher claw/claw. creature/creature. critter/critter. cryp/crypt. cryp/cryptid. crypt/crypt. crypt/cryptid. danger/dangerou. dark/dark. death/death. decay/decay. deer/deer. distort/distort. doe/eye. ent/entity. error/erro. faun/faun. fear/fear. fig/figure. fog/fog. freak/freak. ghost/ghost. gloom/gloom. gore/gore. gut/gut. hunt/hunt. hx/hxm. it/it. ix/ix. kill/kill. kit/kit. loch/loch. look/look. lur/lurk. maim/maim. mist/myst. moth/moth. mu/mutation. murder/murder. omen/omen. rib/rib. rip/rip. rot/rot. scare/scare. scream/scream. shade/shade. shadow/shadow. shift/shift. shx/hxr. spectre/specter. spook/spook. stab/stab. stalk/stalk. stalk/stalking. stare/stare. stare/staring. tear/tear. that/that. thing/thing. thxy/thxm. umbra/umbra. un/uncanny. unknown/unknown. veil/veil. void/void. watch/watche. weird/weirdo. woof/woof. worm/worm. ze/zem. 🐾. 👻. 🦑.

[stone-stars]

[warning: c3e69 spoilers]

Transcript:

Robert (Murph): I am Robert, the Young Stag. Callie (Emily): Calliope Petrichor, Knight of the Serpent Calder (Jake): Calder Kilde, also Knight of the Serpent. That was perfect. [The others laugh.] Sol (Caldwell): Sol Bufo-- likewise, similarly, Knight of the Serpent Robert: Knight of the Serpent and the Young Stag. Not bad, not bad. Sol: Got a ring! Murph: Um, as he says that, you see-- another halfling man that looks similar to Robert but older, gray mustache and gray hair. [Emily chuckles] Murph: His green armor is looking a little tight-- Emily: (amused) Fuck you. Murph: --he pushes through the crowd-- Emily: I know where this is going! Fuck you! Murph: (also amused) --to join the Young Stag-- [Caldwell laughs] Balnor (Murph): Oh, Bobby! There you are! [Emily and Caldwell cackle in glee] Jake: (yelling) What? What! What! Murph: And he looks up at you guys-- Balnor: If he's the young stag, then I guess I'm deer old dad! [Caldwell, Jake, and Emily laugh] Balnor: How you guys doing, the name's Balnor! Caldwell: Ohhh!! Emily: Fuck you! Jake: Calder cries. And he doesn't know why. Murph: You see this timeline's Balnor-- this timeline's Balnor, (smiling audibly) who got to grow up in the Feywild and lived this whole different life than the timeline he was pulled from in Campaign 1-- Emily: (gasps) Woahhh Murph: --reaches out to greet you. And that's where we'll end our session. Caldwell: Oooh, god! Emily: Wooow! Jake: I climb over everyone to take his hand! Caldwell: Yeah! [Everyone laughs]

[marauders-band-together]

A New Marauders Roleplay Has Just Formed

It has Wolfstar and Jegulus and whatever others

It is a band rival AU, where Regulus’ band (The Skittles or smth) is still running under Black Labels. His brother’s band (The Marauders) recently got out of the label.

Heavily inspired by @ccccatttta tbh. I love their AUs

My main is @the1970sdeadgaywizard-regulus

The Marauders

@padfoot-official2 is Sirius, the lead singer

@moony-has-entered-the-chat is Moony, the guitarist

@stag-official is James, the bassist

@rat-playing-drums is Peter, the drummer

The Cursed Serpents: @the-cursed-serpents

@not-officially-regulus-black is Regulus, the lead singer

@batty-barty is Barty, the guitarist

is Pandora, the bassist

@rosie-drums is Evan, the drummer

is Dorcas, the backup vocals

Under Black Labels

@blackprincess is a soloist

@n4rcissa-black-music

The Valkyries: @the-valkryies

@marlene-mclovin is Marlene.

@mary-macdonald-official is Mary

@lillian-j-official is Lily

@actually-alice-official is Alice

Normal People/Reporters

@ritaknowsthedrama is Rita

Currently taken are below cut:

Sirius (by @printershorts)

Remus (by @mairon-goth-minion)

James (by @bralnwashed)

Peter (by someone unnamed)

Regulus (by @the1970sdeadgaywizard-regulus/me, hello there)

Barty (by @l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft)

Evan (by @bibeantransbean)

Narcissa (by @savannahwiththegreenest-eyes)

Marlene (by @yesiamprocrastinating)

Mary (by @percyweasleyapologist )

Lily (by @taleofapart-timepoet)

Rita (by @jaybirdbluejay)

[khaire-traveler]

🔮 Subtle Circe Worship 🪄

Grow your own herbs, especially those you plan to use in magical workings (kitchen related magic may be the most discreet for this)

Take a walk on a sunny day; bask in sunlight

Wear/collect rings or hoop jewelry

Have a candle that reminds you of her (no altar needed)

Keep a picture of her in your wallet

Wear jewelry that reminds you of her

Go for a swim in the ocean; wash your hands in salt water

Visit the beach or the bank of a body of water

Have a pig, dragon, stag, or snake stuffed animal

Have imagery of rings, magic, the beach/islands, winged serpents, various beasts (I'd say whatever animals come to mind with "beats"), or the sun around

Volunteer at an animal shelter

Support environmental preservation, animal sanctuary, or humanitarian organizations

Cook a warm meal for someone in need

Learn to trust your own judgement; trust your instincts

Drink an herbal tea, using the herbs with intention; cook using herbs with intention

Read the Greek Magical Papyri or The Odyssey (you can usually find a PDF; check the Internet Archive)

Bake cakes and pastries, especially with honey; give them to loved ones

Take time to meditate in the sunlight; do this in nature if able

Go outside of your comfort zone; try new things, and take risks

Dedicate time to learning about a new subject or topic

Go out of your way to meet new people or engage with a community

Listen to music that empowers you or that you feel represents you; dance to it!

Play a TTRPG; play D&D (yes, really)

Start a garden; tend to plants

Connect with local nymphs or nature spirits

Stand up for others; stand up for yourself

Learn about the history of witchcraft, especially that of ancient Greece (this ties into the GMP)

Take a self-care bath or shower, especially with herbs

Go camping; take time to appreciate nature

Ground yourself often; practice healthy coping skills; practice emotional regulation skills

Clean your space; keep your environment feeling comfortable, and make it your own

Think outside the box for solutions to problems

Be creative; engage in activities that help you express your creativity

Press flowers; keep dried flowers (preferably for use in later magical workings)

Sit by a fireplace; light a bonfire; allow yourself to focus on the heat and comfort of the flames

Learn non-obvious forms of divination; pyromancy, cartomancy, shufflomancy, carromancy, etc.

Make a list of your personal strengths and pride; focus on how strong and resilient you are; know that you have power, you have strength

Create a sigil or symbol that represents/invokes you and your personal power

-

This is my list of discreet ways to worship Circe. I may add more later on! For now, I hope this was helpful. Thank you, and take care! 🩷

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[ghw-archive]

Glyn Smyth aka Stag & Serpent

[jamesregulusmarauders]

The Serpent and the Stag, Chapter 5/? posted!

[photo credit]

‘Do you want me to kiss you so that you know?’

Peter turned deep scarlet.

‘Absolutely not, I don’t need the trauma of witnessing that,’ said Sirius dramatically. ‘Peter, I forbid it.’

‘Yes, if my boyfriend is going to kiss any man here, it’s me.’ James said it with a grin and a wink, but inside his stomach tightened. The thought of Regulus kissing Peter made him want to break what remained of the sofa.

‘Perfect, you can tell me.’ Peter gestured between them. ‘For science, go on.’

FIC LINK.

[nyxshadowhawk]

Hellenic Gods Fact Sheets and Hymns: Hecate

Other Names: Trivia, Brimo

Epithets: Anassa eneroi  (queen of those below), Aidonaia (lady of the Underworld), Amibousa (she who changes), Atalus (tender, delicate), Borborophorba (she who feeds on filth), Brimo (angry, terrifying), Despoina (mistress), Eileithyia (of childbirth), Enodia (of the roads), Epaine (dread), Euplokamos (bright-tressed), Khthonia (of the Underworld), Kleidouchos (keeper of the keys), Kourotrophos (protector of children), Krokopelos (saffron-robed), Liparokredemnos (bright-coiffed), Nycteria (nocturnal; of the night), Nyctipolos (night-wandering), Perseis (destroyer/ daughter of Perses), Phosphoros (light bearer), Propolos (guide), Propylaia (the one before the gate), Scylacagetis (leader of dogs), Soteira (savior), Trikephalos (three-headed/of the crossroads), Trimorphos (three-formed), Trioditis (of the three ways), Trivia (of the three ways).

Domains: Witchcraft, magic, necromancy, ghosts, nightmares, death, initiation, the crossroads, gateways, passage between worlds, and the night.

Appearance: [My UPG] A tall (over 6’) woman, neither young nor old, with waist-length black hair, pale skin, prominent cheekbones, a heavy jaw, and intense green eyes. She is usually dressed in black folds molded into a simple dress or robes. She has a severe expression and an intimidating presence. She speaks with a low voice.

Sacred Days and Festivals: Eleusinia (22 Metageitnion). Nemoralia (August 13th-15th). Deipnon, last day of each (lunar) month.

Symbols/Attributes: Torches, keys, daggers, strophalos (iynx wheel)

Sacred Animals: Dog, polecat, serpent, horse, frog.

Sacred Plants: Yew, cypress, garlic, willow, hazel, black poplar, aconite, belladonna, dittany, mandrake, hemlock, asphodel

Elemental Affinity: Darkness, light, fire

Planet: Moon

Colors: Black, saffron, silver.

Crystals: Black onyx, hematite, obsidian, black tourmaline, moonstone, smoky quartz, agate, amethyst.

Incense: Myrrh, almond, cypress, camphor, saffron, mugwort, pomegranate.

Tarot Cards: The High Priestess, The Moon, Death

Retinue: Empousai, ghosts of the dead, dogs, Lampades (torch-bearing underworld nymphs)

Associated People: Witches (and other magic-users), the dead

Offerings: Bread, eggs, honey, garlic, menstrual blood, graveyard dirt.

Syncretized With: Artemis, Diana, Persephone, Eileithyia, Selene, Nephthys, Ereshkigal, Nicnevin, Heqet

Hymns to Hecate

Orphic Hymn to Hecate

Hekate Enodia, Trivia, lovely dame, Of earthly, watery, and celestial frame, Sepulchral, in a saffron veil arrayed, Pleased with dark ghosts that wander through the shade; Daughter of Perses, solitary goddess, hail! The world’s key-bearer, never doomed to fail; In stags rejoicing, huntress, nightly seen, And drawn by bulls, unconquerable, monstrous queen; Leader, Nymphe, nurse, on mountains wandering, Hear the suppliants who with holy rites thy power revere, And to the herdsman with a favoring mind draw near.

Hecate’s Hymn to Herself

I come, a virgin of varied forms, wandering through the heavens, bull-faced, three-headed, ruthless, with golden arrows; chaste Phoebe bringing light to mortals, Eileithyia; bearing the three synthemata [sacred signs] of a triple nature.  In the Aether I appear in fiery forms and in the air I sit in a silver chariot, Earth reins in my black brood of puppies.

(From Porphyry’s lost commentary on the Chaldean Oracles, preserved by Eusebius of Caesaria in Praeparatio Evangelica. According to Porphyry, this hymn was composed by Hecate herself.)

Magical Invocation to Hecate

Approach, you of the netherworld, of earth, of heaven, Bombo! You by the wayside, at the crossroads, light-bearer, night-wanderer, Enemy of light, friend and companion of night, Rejoicing in the howl of dogs and in crimson gore, Lurking among the corpses and the tombs of lifeless dust, Lusting for blood, bringing terror to mortals, Grim one, Ogress [Mormo], Moon – you of many forms, May you come gracious to our sacrificial rites!

(Preserved in Refutation to All Heresies by Hippolytus)

Invocation to Hecate from PGM IV 2708-84

Come, giant Hecate, Dione’s guard, O Persia [daughter of Perses], Baubo Phroune, dart-shooter, Unconquered Lydian, the one untamed, Sired nobly, torch-bearing, guide, who bends down Proud necks, Kore, hear, you who’ve parted / gates Of steel unbreakable. O Artemis, Who, too, were once protectress, mighty one, Mistress, who burst forth from the earth, dog-leader, All-tamer, crossroad goddess, triple-headed, Bringer of light, august / virgin, I call you Fawn-slayer, crafty, O infernal one, And many-formed. Come, Hekate, goddess Of three ways, who with your fire-breathing phantoms Have been allotted dreaded roads and harsh / Enchantments, Hekate I call you

[…]

O Hekate of many names, O Virgin, Kore, Goddess, come, I ask, O guard and shelter of the threshing floor Persephone, O triple-headed goddess, Who walk on fire, cow-eyed BOUORPHORBE PANPHORBA PHORBARA AKITOPHI ERESHKIGAL / NEBOUTOSOUALETH Beside the doors, PYPYLEDEDEZO And gate-breaker; Come Hekate, of firey Counsel, I call you to my sacred chants.

[whencyclopedia]

The Dragon in Ancient China

Dragons appear in the mythology of many ancient cultures but nowhere else in the world was the creature quite so revered as in China. There, in marked contrast to other world mythologies, the dragon was almost always seen in a positive light and particularly associated with life-giving rains and water sources. Considered the most auspicious year sign, worn on the robes of emperors, depicted in the most precious materials from gold jewellery to jade figurines, and with countless references in literature and the performing arts, the dragon was everywhere in ancient China and looms as large today in the Chinese psyche as ever.

Origins & Physical Attributes

One of the earliest creatures to appear in the tales and legends of ancient China, the dragon is most often depicted as a giant and lithe beast which dwells in either water sources or clouds. The Chinese dragon is extraordinarily powerful, and when it flies, it is usually accompanied by lightning and thunder. When, by whom, and on what reality the dragon was first invented is not known, although some historians suggest a link with rainbows and a 'serpent of the sky' which is seen after rain showers or at waterfalls. Carved jade dragons have been excavated at sites of the Hongshan culture, which can be dated to 4500-3000 BCE, far before any written records of the creature appeared. The historian R. Dawson gives the following description of the Chinese dragon's physical attributes:

As chief among the animals the dragon was supposed to be composed of outstanding features of other animals. The traditional description gives it the horns of a stag, the forehead of a camel, the eyes of a demon, the neck of a snake, the belly of a sea-monster, the scales of a carp, the claws of an eagle, the pads of a tiger, and the ears of an ox. (231)

Alternative descriptions give similar attributes but sometimes with the body of a snake, the eyes of a rabbit, the belly of a frog, and the antlers of a deer. Other qualities of the dragon were that it could change its shape and size at will and disappear or reappear wherever it wished.

The Chinese scholar Wen Yiduo suggested that this fantastic collection of beastly parts was actually based on the political union of several different tribes, each with a different animal as their totem. The dragon was, therefore, a symbolic representation of the assimilation of these tribes into a single nation. An interesting hypothesis, it does not, however, explain the appearance of dragons long before any such political associations existed in early Chinese communities.

Continue reading...

[not-officially-regulus-black]

Hello, my name is Regulus Black.

I am the lead singer of the band that is The Cursed Serpents.

To my mother, I am called Denebola. Please do not call me that. I am trying to make her allow me to go by Regulus on and offstage instead of just onstage.

I use He/Him pronouns.

I’d rather not be trans.

I’m pregnant.

I play the piano whenever we are doing songs that are not of our normal genre.

My band mates ex-band mates:

@rosie-tattoo is my drummer and good friend.

@batty-barty is my guitarist a good friend.

@pandora-in-wonderland is my bassist and a good friend.

is my backup vocals

Under my label

@blackprincess is a soloist and unfortunately my cousin

@n4rcissa-black-music is a soloist and my better cousin

The rival band consists of:

@padfoot-official2, their lead singer, and unfortunately, my brother.

@moony-has-entered-the-chat, their guitarist.

@stag-official ( @stag-official2 until Jana comes back), their bassist, my ?, and the father of my soon to be child.

@rat-playing-drums, their drummer.

The Valkyries consists of:

@marlene-mclovin

@mary-macdonald-official

@lillian-j-official

@actually-alice-official

Reporters:

@ritaknowsthedrama, a person who causes legal issues

Go to @marauders-band-together to join the rp

My main in @the1970sdeadgaywizard-regulus

[talonabraxas]

Yggdrasil - The Sacred Ash Tree of Norse Mythology Talon Abraxas In Norse cosmology, there is no more important entity than Yggdrasil. When it dies, the myths tell us, the whole world of the gods dies with it. Nearly every Norse text that mentions Yggdrasil emphasizes that the tree is not only sacred, it is mortal, and sorely in need of compassion and protection. Odin, in the Poetic Edda, says that Yggdrasil “suffers agony / more than men know, a stag nibbles it above, but at its side it’s decaying, and Níðhöggr [a malicious serpent or dragon] rends it beneath”. Elsewhere in the Eddas, we’re told that countless dangerous serpents slither below Yggdrasil; a squirrel is constantly scurrying up and down its trunk, bringing news; and Gullinkambi, one of three roosters whose crowing will signal Ragnarök (the Twilight of the Gods), nests in Yggdrasil’s upper canopy like a sentry.