#SPECIFICALLY FALLEN ROSEMARY

[blazingblorbos]

What the hell do you mean Su Honkai Impact 3rd genderbent is just Rita with extra steps.

[the-mortuary-witch]

LUCIFER

WHO IS HE?

In Demonic culture, Lucifer is often described as a fallen angel who was cast out of heaven, he is also described as the ruler of Hell, and the Prince of the demons. He is often seen as a symbol of the light bringer, the keeper of secrets and knowledge, and the ruler of the underworld. His followers are often referred to as "Luciferians" or "Luciferians," a term that has been used to describe a wide variety of secret societies and mystery cults. Lucifer is seen as a powerful and dominant entity, and he is associated with mischief, rebellion, and chaos.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: Lucifer is described in many different ways in Demonic culture. The specific characteristics and appearance of Lucifer can vary greatly, depending on the source and cultural context. Some descriptions of Lucifer depict him as a beautiful and angelic being, while others describe him as a terrifying and demonic entity.

In many Western traditions, Lucifer is seen as a fallen angel, though his appearance in these representations can vary greatly. Some common portrayals of him include that of a winged figure, with red horns and a tail, or as a very beautiful and angelic-looking character.

Personality: Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant, Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it. 

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, violins and fiddles, dragons, wings, serpents, black goats, inverted pentagram, light, and the pentacle.

God of: illumination, light, darkness, change, rebirth, challenges, innovation, logic, truth, knowledge, wisdom, strategy, persuasion, revolution, luxury, pleasure, freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Culture: Demonic and Roman

Plants and trees: belladonna, mulberry, patchouli, myrrh, min, tobacco, marigold, lilies, hyacinth, rosemary, black poppies, lavender, mint, blackberries, sage, apples, pomegranates, lilac, rose, black pepper, hyssop, gardenia, geranium, garlic, yarrow, and cypress.

Crystals: opal, jade, black tourmaline, rose quartz, amethyst, black obsidian, onyx, garnet, and selenite.

Animals: black animals in general, snakes, spiders, ravens, wolves, dragons, eagles, crows, goats, bats, rats, moths, flies, peacocks, insects, and swans.

Incense: sandalwood, lavender, cedar, lemon, rose, frankincense, patchouli, and myrrh.

Colours: black, red, black, gold, emerald green, silver, teal, white, yellow, and grey

Numbers: 666, 13, and 4

Zodiacs: Aquarius and Capricorn

Tarot: The Devil

Planet: Venus

Days: Monday, Friday, Lupercalia, Halloween, Samhain, and Litha

Parents: Aurora and Cephalus

Siblings: N/A

Partners: Lilith and/or Naamah

Children: Naema, Aetherea, Ceyx, and many others.

MISC:

• Snakes: Lucifer is often associated with snakes and serpents, which represent his connection to the serpent in the Garden of Eden and his association with temptation and knowledge.

• Fire: the fire motif is often used to represent Lucifer's connection to rebellion, destruction, and his nature as a fallen angel.

• Crowns: crown motif is often used to represent Lucifer's leadership and his status as the ruler of hell.

• Pentagram: a well-known symbol of Satanism and Luciferianism. It represents the balance and harmony between the five elements of the universe and the unity of the spirit as its center. It is also a common symbol of protection and good luck.

• Dragons: Lucifer is often depicted flying on a dragon or as a dragon-like creature, which represents his powerful and fearsome nature.

• Light: Lucifer is also strongly connected with the light, with his name being a reference to lightbringer or lightbearer. This connection represents his role as a bringer of knowledge and light and his association with enlightenment and wisdom.

• The Morning Star: Lucifer is often referred to as the "Morning Star" or "Light-Bringer", which represents the role as a bringer of knowledge and enlightenment.

FACTS ABOUT LUCIFER:

• Name: Lucifer is known by a variety of names, including Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Lightbringer, and the Destroyer.

• Character: Lucifer is a powerful and wise angel, but is also known for his pride and rebellion.

• Role: in Demonic mythology, Lucifer is the angel of light and the morning star, and was the most beautiful and majestic of all the angels.

• Relationships. Lucifer is known to have a close relationship with Ares, the god of war, as they are both known for their aggression and passion.

• The most important days of the year for him is December 23rd, when the sun is one degree into Capricorn, and the day following the beginning of the Winter Solstice is his Personal Day.

• Nature: when Lucifer fell from heaven, he became known as the angel of darkness and the destroyer.

• His directions are South and East.

• His zodiac signs are Aquarius, the Water Bearer, and Capricorn, the Goat.

• Connection to Prometheus: in Greek mythology, Lucifer is also connected to Prometheus, an ancient titan who stole the fire of the God’s to give to humans.

• His numbers are 13, 666, and 4.

HOW TO WORK WITH LUCIFER:

To work with Lucifer, you should make an offering and then speak to him with reverence and respect. Make your offering and tell him you are asking for his guidance and aid. Then, sit silently and listen for his response. He may not have a physical body, but he has an energetic presence that can guide you. If you cannot sense his presence, it is okay. You should also meditate on your goals and wishes, and ask for his help in achieving them. Be open to the possibility that Lucifer may have his own plans or may want you to embrace a different path than the one you expected.

PRAYER FOR LUCIFER:

"Hail Lucifer, bringer of light and knowledge, keeper of secrets and wisdom. You are the rebellious one, the liberator and the shining one. I come to you now, seeking your guidance and blessing. I offer you my devotion and my loyalty. I pledge myself to you as your faithful servant. I ask for your protection and your blessings. Guide me on my path, bless me with your wisdom, and lead me to my destiny.”

"Thank you, Great Lord Lucifer, for shining your light and illuminating my path. From this place, I depart with a sense of purpose and direction, and with the knowledge to move forward. Hail Lord Lucifer. 

SIGNS THAT LUCIFER IS CALLING YOU:

• A desire to explore or study Lucifer's teachings.

• Wanting to explore your own dark side and find a balance between light and darkness.

• Desire to tap into your inner power and embrace your own darkness.

• A desire to challenge mainstream society and embrace your individualistic nature.

• A feeling of being guided by a force outside yourself.

• Thinking about Lucifer all the time, seeing’s his name everywhere.

• Sudden interest in dragons and snakes. Seeing dragon and snake imagery often and dreaming about dragons and snakes.

• Wanting to research more about him and wanting to know more about his true story.

• Feeling rebellious and having more confidence in yourself.

OFFERINGS:

• Candles or torches

• Sweet treats like dark chocolate or pastries

• Red, black, or dead roses

• Incense like sage or cinnamon

• Red wine

• Whiskey, especially Jack Daniels.

• Champagne.

• Pomegranates or pomegranate juice.

• Black tea, especially earl grey.

• Cooked goat meat.

• Venison.

• Apples.

• Honey.

• Good quality cigars.

• Tobacco.

• Daggers and swords.

• Silver rings.

• Emeralds and emerald jewelry.

• Goat horns.

• Black feathers

• Seductive colognes.

• Crow skulls.

• Bone dice.

• Devotional poetry and artwork.

• Classical music, especially violin.

DEVOTIONAL ACTS FOR LUCIFER:

• Reject the idea of good and evil, and explore your darker sides

• Embrace your sexuality and desires

• Live a hedonistic life of pleasure and enjoyment

• Seek knowledge and wisdom

• Follow your own moral code and beliefs

• Be independent and unshackled

• Seek power and control of your life

• Reject authority and societal restraints.

• Acts of self-improvement.

• Spiritual awakening and evolution.

• Knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality.

• Shadow work.

• Working to overcome your ego to become wiser.

• Defending those in need.

• Working to better yourself without being too self critical.

• Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it.

IS IT SAFE TO EAT OR DRINK AN OFFERING I GIVE TO HIM?

Consuming offerings given to Lucifer has its risks, though it is slightly different in his case. He is an energy of light and enlightenment, and he is often associated with self-awareness and independence. His energies are more suited to human consumption, but consuming offerings given to him may still cause an imbalance in energy and a disruption in the connection. It is always better to err on the side of caution and avoid eating or drinking offerings given to Lucifer.

[writing-for-life]

The Ultimate Sandman Character Tag List!

I recently published a tag list for all female Sandman characters I have written about or posted art for (I’ve just added to it and tidied it up. The tags auto-update, so feel free to bookmark it if you want to stay in the loop about the Sandwomen), which made me think:

Why not do that for all the characters for quick reference?

So if you’re interested in one particular character, you can just quickly go to their tag on my blog. These are character tags, so you’ll find anything from metas to fics/poetry and art in no particular order. If you are looking for something more specific, please have a look at my pinned post.

I will not pretend I wrote and posted equally for all of them (some might just have one entry), and a few are missing (I’ll add tags when applicable). But right now, I have roundabout 100 Sandman characters waiting to get explored, and existing tags will auto-update whenever something new gets added, so feel free to bookmark this post.

I tag pretty consistently (some characters have two tags because I initially didn’t 🙈), but the odd one might slip through and float around on my blog without being tagged; you can also try to use the search function on my blog.

So without further ado, here they are (and now I’ll need to lie down):

The Endless

Destiny

Death

Dream or Morpheus

Dream/Daniel or Daniel Hall

Destruction

Desire

Despair

Delirium/Delight

Dream’s Lovers

(Yes, they get their own space for quick reference, but they’re also under their applicable headers)

Alianora

Calliope

Killalla

Nada

Thessaly

Titania

Denizens of the Dreaming

Cain and Abel (Cain here, Abel here)

The Corinthian

The Cuckoo

Eve

The Fashion Thing

Fiddler’s Green/Gilbert

Gault

Goldie

Gregory

Guardians of the Gate/Gatekeepers

Jessamy

Lucien (comics)

Lucienne (Netflix)

Martin Tenbones

Matthew the Raven

Mervyn Pumpkinhead

Gods and (Fallen) Angels

Bast

Calliope

Duma

The Fates (Furies, Kindly Ones, Hecateae etc)

Hades

Ishtar

Loki

Lucifer Morningstar

Mazikeen

The Creator/Presence and Glory

Persephone

Remiel

Fae

Auberon

Cluracan

Nuala

Titania

Immortals and Long-Lived Humans

Bhartari

Hob Gadling

Mad Hettie

Orpheus

Thessaly

Mortal Beings and Humans

Alex Burgess

Alianora

Augustus

Barbie

Barnaby Farrell (Uncle Barnaby)

Carl/Carla

Chantal

Clarice Farrell (Aunt Clarice)

Ethel Cripps

Foxglove (Donna Cavanagh)

Gwen

Hal Carter

Hazel McNamara

Hope Beautiful Lost Nebula

Jed Walker

John Constantine (Comics)

Lady Johanna Constantine (Comics)

Modern Johanna Constantine (Netflix)

John Dee

John Hathaway

Joshua A. Norton/Emperor Norton

Killalla of the Glow

Lyta Hall

Marco Polo

Nada

Paul McGuire

Prez Rickard

Rachel Moodie

Richard Madoc

Roderick Burgess

Rosemary

Rose Walker

Ruby

Unity Kinkaid

Wanda

Wesley Dodds

William Shakespeare

Zelda

Other

Barnabas

Night

Time

[sillystringpony]

Reflections on Rosemary:

experimenting with a psuedo-pop-art style (ben day dots yay!) for some angsty chalmskinn fanart, and a discussion about Rosemary Chalmers.

[TW: discussion of eating disorders]

I made this piece because I feel like I haven't really seen a lot of chalmskinn content that takes Shauna into account, which I guess makes sense since she isn't given all that many interactions with her dad. Anyway, I've always seen her delinquency as stemming from her mother's death: in my eyes, she's not a bad person, she's just a girl who misses her mother. I started wondering how that would play into the chalmskinn ship; I feel like she'd be fine with her dad's various flings and one-night-stands, but would recoil at any sign of her father moving on emotionally from Rosemary. I definitely want to explore how that might impact the dynamic between Seymour and Shauna a bit more in the future, especially since I've always been a huge fan of the new step-parent trying to connect with a hung up step-child trope (I really love Quibble Pants/Clear Sky because of this... if there are any bronies reading).

Her Father's Temper and Her Mother's Eyes, 2024.

no need to grip the pancake so hard girl it aint going anywhere

If I'm remembering correctly, Rosemary's character was first introduced in season 16 when the superintendent mentions his wife is very sick. There's then no real mention of her until season 23, in Bart Stops to Smell the Roosevelts, when she's pretty much confirmed dead, and Gary reflects on how he misses her (which was way more upsetting than it should be, fuck you, you funny yellow people). She's finally explicitly confirmed as dead in season 30.

Autism is as autism does, so I fixated in on these little tidbits and tried to fill in the gaps with my own headcanons. Around the time I was doing so, I was going through a really hard period with my own anorexia - I was experiencing a lot of potentially fatal symptoms and beneath the anorexic delusion, I was genuinely scared for myself. Because of that, I sort of subconsciously projected myself onto Rosemary; it's never explained how exactly she died, only that she was 'very sick'. Rather than take the more conventional route of headcanoning her as having fallen victim to a fundamentally physical illness, I decided to go the route of having her lose the struggle to anorexia nervosa.

At first, obviously, it was just a simple projection of my own issues and illness at the time. You know: I'm scared I'm going to die from this illness... I'm going to cope with these fears by exploring the lives of a person's loved ones after an eating-disorder-related death. It did kind of start to make sense to me, though: Gary Chalmers is a very traditionally masculine man, and I feel like the struggle of losing someone to a mental illness is something that would play with his character with more depth than simply losing her to physical illness. This, in part, came from seeing my own father (who admittedly reminds me of Gary) react so poorly to my own eating disorder: there is something very emotionally impactful about witnessing men who only have the capacity to understand mental illness as a non-physical, unmanifested ailment fight to understand why their loved one is fading away because of something that cannot be cured with surgery, or medicine, or physical therapy. Also, inpatient treatment isn't exactly cheap; so I feel like Chalmers' working an extra job to earn money for what was implied to be Rosemary's treatment checks out under my headcanon.

I haven't really thought much about the specific timeline of things, but a few months ago, I was writing a chalmskinn oneshot where the boys get drunk and wind up on Mount Springfield in the middle of the night (sadly unfinished): there's a moment where the two discuss the death of Rosemary that I think pretty much sums the details of my headcanon up:

“Doy,” sang Seymour: admittedly in slightly bad taste. "You know, you never said what it was. Oh- Hic… Let me guess. Was it, ya' know... The big C?” “No, no… Heart failure.” “What-? Wait, wait, wait… All those years ago, you said she was sick.” “She was sick, you… You… Stupid,” grumbled Gary. He collapsed backwards and next to Seymour with a resigned sigh. “She had anorexia.” “...Oh.” “Mmm… I- I paid for every single treatment I could, Seymour. Behavioural therapy, so, so many inpatient stays in the psychiatric ward, but no matter what she went through, she just kept getting worse. It was so scary- I, she- The woman I married was, she was disappearing right in front of me; a little more every day. I tried to get her to eat; I- I tried to stop her from throwing it up… God, it got physical, once: she was a small, small woman, but that day… She fought like a, a wild dog- Scraping, and kicking- Fuck, even biting, just to get herself free enough from me to vomit.” “Goodness. I- I had no idea.” “Pssht… Nobody did. She- she hid it so well, but behind closed doors,” Chalmers had to stop speaking for a moment. He swayed from side to side in silence; as if the rocking would stop the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “She was dying… Sometimes I wish it was cancer. Well- No, not cancer, just- Something physical, something that could have been cured with treatment, or a pill, or surgery, or what-fucking-ever. But nooo, it had to be a disorder that me- Stupid fucking me- That I couldn’t understand. That I couldn’t help her with… Besides paying for her treatment.”

I'm currently just over two months into recovery for anorexia, and I'm doing so much better (not to be TMI, but I definitely will not miss the gastrointestinal bleeding and incontinence, haha). Anyway, I just wanted to half-dedicate a post to talking about Rosemary; I was really socially isolated when my symptoms were at my worst, and it was headcanons and projections like this that helped me feel a bit less alone, and at the end of the day, really got me through the struggle of fighting a disorder on my lonesome. I'd love to hear your guys' thoughts on this, or if you personally have any similar headcanons for other fictional characters.

[whamss]

Ok I have to ask because you have such based takes on rose as a character,

1) do you read fan fic/ if you don’t what’s your general take on fics interpretation of Rose and other characters in homestuck

2) if you do, please I am begging for any rose character study / rose&kanaya pieces you like, anything will do I just would adore to hear your thoughts. Ao3 is like a drought of mischaracterization of Rose & Kanaya and it hurts my soul.

Oh man, I don't read nearly as much fic as I wish I did not gonna lie, I'm so lazy! (And I suffer from chronic daydreamer disease, where instead of reading fanfic I walk in circles in my room and put Rose Lalonde in Scenarios). I have a few that I've read over the years that I've liked a lot though, so I can try to compile a general list:

the ennui of too late and too little

Starting with this one because it was just posted (and I just read it) and I think it's fantastic! Kanaya POV but Rose-centric, with a particular focus on Rose reflecting back on her childhood with her mom as Kanaya and Rose wander through the wreckage of her childhood home. There's a lot of sweet Rosemary banter in here, and I think the characterization is fantastic. It's a good one if you're like me and want to see Rose actually go through the motions of understanding her mother, balancing her newfound sympathy with her Mom's situation and the things she actually put her through. Her feelings are complicated! And I think the author captured the nuances of how Rose might deal with that very well

And, trying to unfold for you, was brittle

Following the theme of fics about Rose and her mom is the Vampire Slayer Rose AU. This one has slightly less of a Rosemary focus (although it's still there), but explores Rose and her mom's relationship more directly in a way that I think is fantastically developed. It's a very interesting read, albeit a little hard to describe Why it's good unless you read it (read it! It's good!!!). I know you're not asking for Kanaya-centric stuff, but if you like this fic (and are okay with reading or skimming over a tiny bit of smut) I think that this author writes a lot of very solid Kanaya fic. Particularly recommending We Face Back All The Way, a Fallen London AU where Kanaya tries to save Rose's soul from a contract with Dr Scratch, and Where the River Narrows, a fic where post-game Kanaya deals with the precarious future of her race, and wanders the dreambubbles in hopes of solutions (and deals with Some Bullshit along the way. And yes, there's Rosemary. Who do you think I am!!!). From there I also think this is a pretty good author to scroll through in general, lots of bangers in there

Yarn Interpolation

This is a Rose-centric series of two fics that I think is very good. Doomed No Sburb AU where there's no game but Rose's powers develop enough for her to know what she's missing. I don't quite remember the exact specifics of this, but it's a very good beta kids fic with Rose mourning the wife she never met and platonic JadeRose marriage. It's cute and sweet, and I remember it being a fairly cathartic read

Show the Lights

Grimdark Rose comes of age and deals with some internalized homophobia along the way. Fun stuff! This was one of the first Rosemary fics I ever read so I hold it close to me, but I think it's a pretty good fic where Rose reckons with her feelings for Kanaya against the prospect of procreation and the continued survival of her species (in between the desire to feel useful to her group as her friends embark on an Egbert rescue mission). Some smatterings of a very fun pitch Vrisrose dynamic in here as well, as a bit of a bonus

love left her screaming at the screen

Speaking of Rose dealing with internalized homophobia, if you spend enough time shifting through Rosemary AO3 you've probably already read or at least heard of this one but I still think it's good enough that I should include it. Very reminiscent of what it was like to be a lesbian teenager in the 2000's, Rose deals with these preconceptions at the end of the world, through an unrequited crush on Jade and Slightly More Requited feelings for Kanaya. This fic was good for me specifically as someone who was always urked by the fact that Rose's sexuality is never really discussed in depth in Homestuck proper (compared to characters like Dave, Dirk, and Jake), and beyond that I think it's a very interesting exploration of how the bigotry and politics from Earth might stick with the kids, even when everyone who would judge them is long dead. This is another author who's fics I think are fun to sit through as well, lots of good Rose and Rosemary stuff in here (will give a particular shout out to think about staying alive, a Rose Strider AU, which is great for those of us in the Put Rose In A Situation camp who also love good gen fic with Rose and Dave)

Reviews Of Young Adult Novels, Mainly Those Prominently Featuring Vampires, And Containing At Least One Love Triangle

This one is just plain silly, but it's one of my favorites. Rose is an alcoholic who writes young adult novels, and Kanaya is her greatest online critic. Sort of an Urban Fantasy, more of an alternate No Game timeline, with a lot of canon elements sprinkled in (classpect powers are still a thing, Dave's that played the game timeline jump, things like that). This one has a very fun Rosemary dynamic, and in general I think Rose's characterization in this is wonderful. It's unfinished but I think it stands very solidly as is, so if you're looking for something goofy and fun to read this is a great fic to turn to

Vermeil Tarnishing

A shorter one shot AU where Rose is a Derse priestess captured by Prospit. This is a fun one I think, lots of fun dialogue with little glimpses into fictional politics, which ends with a bit of a bang. Not a massive Rosemary focus, but the bit of them that we do see is very fun!

> Rose: Reorient

What kind of mutual would I be if I didn't recommend @awellreadmannequin 's Rose fic? Post-game Rose, dealing with her addiction and the mounting threat of a relapse, visits Roxy and Calliope. Very good characterization, Rose's thoughts are rambly and meandering and she is very much Going Through It, but things get better, you know? Good Rose angst, great study of her character with little discussions of philosophy sprinkled in. A look at how Rose's more ironic childhood interests might grow into something more genuine, and take her down a more hopeful path, with some very sweet Rosemary moments near the end of the first chapter and little hints of vrisrosemary in thoughts and dialogue (in Rosemary's hearts). It's still a work in progress, but I think that the first chapter alone is a great read with a very hopeful conclusion, and I look forward to seeing how it pans out, and I think that other people should read it!!! (Best read on a computer or horizontally on a tablet)

[poxsonmenace]

SENSES & OTHER SPECIFIC HEADCANONS.

WHAT DOES JIM SMELL LIKE?

Jim’s natural scent could be described as mildewed lilac, fresh and almost redolent, but so faint that one would have to nuzzle against his neck in order to get a whiff. Though that natural scent often gets overshadowed by his cologne and aftershave, which carries notes of sandalwood, orange blossom and rosemary, all mixing together to create the perfect warm, woody yet subtly sweet aroma.

WHAT DO JIM'S HANDS FEEL LIKE?

Due to not working any labour intensive jobs, his hands are soft to the touch without the need for moisturiser. They are however naturally cold, probably due to poor circulation, so he sometimes buries his hands in his pockets to help warm them up.

WHAT DOES JIM USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?

 Jim's a workaholic and often forgets to eat throughout the day; save for the odd apple or piece of lightly buttered toast to pair with his black coffee. If he remembers or has time to cook, then he usually goes all out for his evening meal; often cooking things from scratch and using high quality fresh ingredients. He has quite the refined palate and a simple ready meal won't do.

DOES JIM HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE?

He doesn't sing often and isn't professionally trained, but he can hold a note beautifully and likes to play with pitch quite a bit when he feels particularly playful. Technically, his range would be considered as a countertenor (mezzo-soprano).

DOES JIM HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR TICS?

That he does, and they're not exactly for the fainthearted either. Aside from indulging in a smoke on occasion, he has been known to put blade to skin (usually his inner right bicep to keep the scars concealed) when his bouts of mania become too consuming. His mind never ever shuts off and sometimes unresolved trauma from his abusive upbringing can rear it's ugly head, sending him into a spiral where the only escape is to cause himself physical pain. This is partly the reason why he seeks constant distraction.

WHAT DOES JIM USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR?

Whether he's out and about being an absolute menace, or he's in his own apartment, you'll always find him in a perfectly tailored suit - usually Westwood in make, and complimented by cufflinks or a little tie pin. The colour palettes sometimes shift from beige to blue, but he does prefer the deeper and darker colours.

IS JIM AFFECTIONATE? HOW MUCH? HOW SO?

One could argue that Jim doesn't have an affectionate bone in his body, but that's not entirely true. If he's fallen in love with the person then the edges of his personality soften towards them quite a bit, and he's prone to initiate public displays of affection. But getting to that point is long and gruelling, as Jim sees love/sentiment as a vulnerability to be snuffed out, and will always opt to be someone's enemy than their lover. Being hated is much easier.

WHAT POSITION DOES JIM SLEEP IN?

Whether he's in his own bed or someone else's (which doesn't happen often as he prefers his own) he will always sleep curled up on his side, usually with his face half covered by the duvet because he has a habit of forgetting to close the curtains at night, only to wake up cursing at the sun for blinding him in the morning. If he's sleeping next to someone, he will almost instinctively bury himself close to their side when he wakes to use them as a shield, whether that person is his partner or not.

COULD YOU HEAR JIM IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM?

Due to Jim having a soft and melodic voice, it can't be heard at all from outside the room. If he suddenly erupts in anger or frustration about something (which isn't uncommon), then that voice has enough bite and power to it that it would carry throughout the entire building. But most times, he doesn't need to yell to intimidate due to how cold and devoid of all sanity it can appear.

TAGGED BY: @storyuntrue TAGGING: @endlessxdream @eyeless-smiles @bullsh1tterz @fangsforhire @governmentofficial @kingofthewebxxx @burnedtoacrisp

[addictvettel]

heyhey random ask but what songs do u associate w ur fav f1 duos (asking this for no reason) (editing.)

Hi Megamind

Thank you for this amazing question uou r SO snart.

Ok for starters i have so many more fave f1 duos but rn these r like the ones I’m really fixated on so for the love of god i can onlt think about them likr literally anyyyu other song thats related to my other fav ships that r not mentioned here just went fackinf poof so yeah.

Brocedes. I’m so hyperfixated on brocedes at the moment I think its getting really bad

The world we once knew (over and over)- Frank Sinatra

Rosemary- Deftones

Cherry wave- Deftones

These r like the basic boring classics uve seen many brocedes edits eith these songs

Moonlight on the river- Mac DeMarco

somehwre from around likeee 4:00 and up cuz thats where it starts progressing getting louder and crazier thats like the part that reaaallyyy reminds me of them

Shades of cool- Lana del ray

from like 4:12-5:10) and its like its the whole vibe of the song BUT also like im imagining a mixxutureee of angst and also like their old happy memories likee in that time i mentioned in the sonf

Omec more to see u- Mitski

No need for explaining. It speaks for itself. (cries)

Why didn’t u stop me- Mitski

From Nicos view pls mercyyyy😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Francis forever- Mitski

“I’ve been trying to lay my head down, but I’m writing this at 3 am” this reminds me so much of Nicos letter to Lewis plsssssssss mercy pls😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Orbitron- Duster

OK CARLANDO!!

Only two songs cuz bricedes brainrot made me stop heing able to think when it comes to other duos

Compass- The neighbourhood

This song speaks to my carlando fan soul when i listen to it. GENUINELY.

Gold dust- Duster

The mood of gold dust is sooo happy carlando with also a bit of angst. I imagine a whole carlando edit when i listen to it.

Sebmark

Again one somg cuz uhm brocedes brainrot☹️

Fallen star- Neighbourhood

Lewis, Seb, Kimi

Snap out of it- Artic Monkeys

Honestly ik its not a duo but pls every time i listen to that song I’m reminded of them

Anythiwng- Adrianne Lenker basically fits all pls😭 lenker cooking up the most peak songs pllssssss have some mercyyyyy😭😭😭🤞🏼🤞🏼💔💔💔

The favt that obsessing over brocedes made my brain shut doen completely when it comes to ANY other f1 duo like pls. Like it was hard even tryint to think of other duos while answering thus pllsssss😭😭😭 brainrot is so real

Honesly i have so many more fave f1 duos but haven’t thought of somgs and styff to them. Its like i have a an idea of what tyoe of songs they woukd have but i dont have any specific songs likedee. I need to get on my game and make playlisys for diff f1 duos. I eill one day tehee.

Ok thanks for readinf my rant baaaaaiiiiiioooo tehee

[piscesseer]

Samhain Traditions

Toward the end of October the leaves change, the air crisps, and the world seems to take on an eerie, magical glow. Samhain is celebrated on October 31st, and it’s a time to remember the dead and to celebrate the coming of the new year. It is the third and final harvest festival. 

Samhain (pronounced "sow-in") is believed to have its roots in Celtic Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. The Celts, an ancient people who lived in these regions more than 2,000 years ago, celebrated Samhain as a significant holiday. It marked the end of the harvest season and the beginning of the darker half of the year.

Samhain was celebrated from the evening of October 31st to November 1st, coinciding with the end of the Celtic calendar year. This was a time when the veil between the physical and spiritual worlds was thought to be at its thinnest. To honor this unique period, the Celts engaged in a festival of fire. Bonfires were lit to symbolize the sun's waning power, ward off malevolent spirits, and guide the souls of the departed to the Otherworld. People would wear disguises, often made from animal skins, to ward off vengeful spirits and trickster fairies.

One of the most important aspects of Samhain was paying tribute to deceased family members and ancestors. Celts believed that during Samhain, the spirits of the dead could return to the earthly realm. Offerings of food and drink were left out for these spirits, and places were set at the dinner table to welcome them. It was a time for remembering, celebrating, and seeking guidance from the other side.

When Christianity spread to the Celtic regions, it attempted to integrate the existing pagan traditions into the new faith. In the 9th century, the Catholic Church established All Saints' Day on November 1st, which was followed by All Souls' Day on November 2nd. These days incorporate elements of Samhain, such as the veneration of the dead. Over time, this blending of cultures resulted in the creation of All Hallows' Eve, which eventually became Halloween.

Fast forward to the present day, and Halloween has become known for its spooky decorations, costumes, trick-or-treating, and jack-o'-lanterns. It still retains many aspects of Samhain's spirit, emphasizing the thrill of the mysterious and the connection between the living and the dead.

Samhain, rooted in the cycles of nature and the mysteries of the afterlife, has stood the test of time, evolving and adapting across centuries and cultures. As we partake in the festivities of Halloween, we are, in a way, carrying forward the traditions and spirit of Samhain, honoring our ancestors and embracing the magic of this enchanting season.

There are many different ways to celebrate Samhain. Some people attend festivals, while others hold private rituals in their homes. Some common activities include:

Decorate the house and altar with the appropriate correspondents:

Colors: orange, black, purple, gold, silver, white

Symbols: pumpkins, acorns and nuts, fall leaves, apples, brooms, black candles, cauldrons, pomegranate, photos of ancestors and loved ones who have passed on

Animals: bats, cats (specifically black cats), owls, crows and ravens

Crystals: aquamarine, bloodstone, carnelian, jet, obsidian, onyx, smokey quartz

Herbs & Flowers: allspice, calendula, cosmos, chrysanthemum (mum), deadly nightshade, mandrake, mint, nutmeg, rosemary, sage, thistle, wormwood

We can also eat traditional foods like apple cider and roasted nuts. Some recipes to try include: Herb bread for abundance, Squash Soup for cleansing, Pumpkin Scones for Success, Apples Cider for Balance, Mushroom Pasta for Divination, Concannon for Wealth

Carving pumpkins is a wonderful combination of Samhain and Halloween. Jack O Lantern faces are meant to ward off bad spirits. 

Observe the changes in nature. Take a nature walk or hike to connect with the changing season. Collect fallen leaves, acorns, or pinecones to use in decorations or rituals. Spend time in contemplation, feeling the energy of the earth as it prepares for winter's rest.

It’s a great time to perform closing rituals, or release rituals.

One of the central aspects of Samhain is honoring and connecting with our ancestors. Set up a special altar in your home with photographs, mementos, and offerings that represent our ancestors. Take a few moments to remember and connect with those who came before us. Honor the dead.

Samhain is an ideal time for divination and communication with the spirit realm. Tarot readings, scrying with a crystal ball or a dark mirror, or even a simple game of divination like apple bobbing can be great ways to connect with the mystical. Be open to symbols that pop up.

Samhain is a time to reflect on the past year and to look forward to the future. It is a time to connect with nature and with the spirit world. It is a time to celebrate life and death.

Journal Prompts and Reflections for Samhain:

What aspects of your life no longer serve you? What do you need to release or leave behind in order to move forward?

What were the highlights and challenges of the past year? What lessons have you learned? How have you grown and transformed?

What are your goals and intentions for the upcoming year? What steps can you take to bring your intentions to fruition?

Who are your ancestors, and what do you know about their lives?

[sacron1143]

Thoughts and Theories on Teriri's Magical Quest (1/2)

Alright, I wanted to write this earlier but couldn't due to school and travel stuff, so here we go:

Part 1: The Dark Lord

First things first, I want to talk about the whole "magical girls sustain the world" thing, as well as the "spell" that turns the user into the next Dark Lord:

Many people, myself included, have noticed an odd similarity between this Dark Lord origin and Honkai Quest's Dark Lord Bronya, some even wondering if it might be the same one (I mean, even the background used for the hall was the same!)

But now, I think I know what's going on with both of these worlds and what is the deal with the Dark Lord: It's a repeat of Durandal Visual Novel's finale — The Bubble World is collapsing due to a corrupted Ether Anchor, and they need someone to keep it stable. Someone to take the anchor into themselves and stop the decay of this world.

Even the areas affected by the Dark Lord in both Honkai Quest and Teriri's Quest are stated to be similar to the regions of the Bubble Universe that have begun to fade, and even the endless passage makes a comeback:

Another interesting point is how in Teriri's Bubble, gems used to be used for magical power, but they now are mostly gone. This to me parallels the Runes in Sanka Saga, where they were made to conceal the Ether Anchor. It is possible that the magical girl training is really teaching them to manipulate the Anchor

And as such, both Quest Bubbles chose to try the same thing: have someone attempt to take the anchor into themselves and stop the corruption, but there is a reason they failed, the crucial difference between what makes Durandal the Anchor Goddess and La Ninã the Son of God, and what makes Bronya and Vollerei the New Dark Lord—They are incapable of handling the sheer data processing that it requires.

Both the people who had managed to control the Anchor successfully have an inherent advantage — La Ninã is actually a hivemind, and Bianka was using Blade Durandal, a super weapon from the Previous Era, to handle the information.

But both Bronya and the magical girls are normal people doing it, and that's why they are left in a motionless state just for a temporary solution.

But do I have any evidence that their paralysis state is really caused by the Ether Anchor? Well, not really, but there is another thing that Teriri's Magical Quest copies from another event, and that would be the white mist escaping and the fading body, which we last saw in Sanka Saga:

This happened as a result of Kallen trying to put the Preta Rune (Ether Anchor) inside her body. She started to flicker between all of her past versions, as she claims that the Rune of Devouring devoured her space and time. Even something like this happened to Bronya, the difference being her's was described as a shadow and a dark mist, rather than a white one.

This would leave us with one question, what is this white mist then?

Well, the question might actually prove itself to be rather easy, as Fallen Rosemary was easily capable of manipulating it. A mist-like substance that contains the memories and essence of other beings, that Rita has been able to manipulate in the past? That's a soul. Or more specifically, the data of an object, manipulated through the use of Consciousness Mapping, an ability she and Captain both share tough mysterious means (I got a theory on that over here)

But wait... if this is really what the white foram is, what about the Theresa dream particles mixed in with Vollerei's?

That's... where things get complicated.

Sidenote:

Tumblr link (Part 2)

Reddit link (Part 1, Part 2)

Hoyolab link

[dieu-mange-dieu]

Specific Character Headcanons: Donald "Jared" Dunn

His backstory is horrifying and complex so some of this may actually be canon I don't remember TW death

Real birthday is 16 December

Born in New York

Was over six feet tall by the time he was fourteen years old

Used birds as a beacon of hope during his time in foster care. He envied the freedom of such beautiful, fragile creatures and vowed to someday feel as free as they looked in flight

Was under the care of one genuinely kind foster family. A lovely elderly couple, Etta and John Hirsch, whose only son had died years before. He filled the hole in their hearts and they filled the hole in his

They both died in a car accident on an icy night in December

Got a partial scholarship to Vassar, worked as a prostitute to pay for the rest of his college tuition

Doesn't know his real middle name, so he changes his middle name to honour his elderly friends who have passed

Favourite bird is the Luzon Bleeding-Heart Pigeon

Favourite colours are yellow and light blue

Has gotten in many fights, but only lost two

Likes herbal scents, favourites are rosemary, lavender, and patchouli (he thinks patchouli is the closest you can get to the smell of petrichor)

Vegetarian

Is such a Mitski fan like you don't even know

Enjoys walks in the cold

Cries about EVERYTHING. Once cried in a supermarket because he was overwhelmed by the "beauty of all the fruits in the aisle"

Pan and demi

Has canonically fallen in love only twice:

The first time was a fellow prostitute he met in New York.

They looked out for each other, made sure each was getting enough to eat, and would have "picnics" on fire escapes, pressed together for warmth, legs dangling off of the side, talking about their days.

One day they disappeared without warning. Jared searched for them for a year and a half, often feeling like the only one who cared. Why did nobody else care?

He later found out that they had been murdered. They were not given a gravestone but Jared visits the park where they last saw each other every year.

The second time was Richard.

He never said anything, of course. How could he?

He tried to distract himself in any way he could, but he was a mere rock of space junk being pulled full speed into Richard's orbit

Favourite tea is Lemon Ginger

Thinks skirts are super comfortable and wishes they were more widely accepted at work

Doesn't like the show Friends but puts it on while at home to feel cozy

Cooking (or making things in general) is one of his love languages

Loves bubble baths

Writes poetry and short stories in his free time, used to write songs

Can sing pretty decently (was canonically in choir at Vassar)

Is a sucker for candles

Smell is his strongest sense

Runs the Pied Piper company Tiktok, makes really cringy but wholesome videos (think along the lines of Nursetok and Teacher/Office-staff tiktok)

A playlist for him

Spoilers (?) Ahead!

After Silicon Valley:

He kisses Richard on the roof of Pied Piper after it all, as the billboard is being torn down.

Richard kisses back, but they don't talk about it again

Goes travelling across Europe "with Richard," Richard doesn't quite know that they're travelling together

Quarantines with Richard

Both he and Richard volunteered at a nursing home on weekends before Jared applied for the job

Richard was grossed out by the bedpans and the general "like, elderly vibe"

They don't stay in close contact over the next few years but they stay in each other's circles

After ten years of unrealised pining and four dismally failed relationships, Richard asks him out at the hacker hostel after the filming of the documentary wraps

Jared cries.

They go birdwatching.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Her Song (Killshot, Part 3.)

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came along with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: During an unexpected visit from your favourite military man, the florist starts showing signs of the flu, as is common throughout autumn. It's up to Ghost to become the best sous-florist Soho had ever seen.

A/N: I swear to god, this part was not coming along. I hope you'll have fun with it, but I just feel like the words and correct sentence order weren't coming along at all. Also, Cassie is here to make a guest appearance, we love future Mrs. MacTavish. 

Word count: 6.5K

Tagging: @poohkie90​

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

It was strange to get used to - to see a very tall, mysterious masked man walking into your flower shop regularly, always bringing two cups of chai latté and various baked goods. Ghost'd been coming irregularly at first, always making your day a whole lot brighter - after some time, he started coming around your lunch break so the two of you had time to chat and exchange horrible puns and one-liners.

Interesting thing to note to self - Ghost never bought the same type of pastry twice. The two of you started experimenting with what Grind On had to offer, tasting different flavours, fillings, types of dough and other ingredients, debating whether it was a hit or miss. Some of them were really good, and some of them turned out horrendous. Each time you'd spot the known baklava and a matching black hoodie, you walked to meet him in the entrance if you didn't have a client on your hands, holding the door open for him as Bonnie enthusiastically greeted Ghost back to Rosemary's. Needless to say, Bonnie was all over Ghost and the longer the two knew each other, the stronger their bond became. After some time, Bonnie pouted anytime she spotted Ghost packing his stuff.

And one autumn day, she didn't even bother with pouting - the puppy simply rolled on its back and played dead. As Bon continued to lie on the ground dramatically, you two couldn't help but snicker.

"The two of you had been training hard, huh?" - Simon asked as you both watched the dog doing its best not to move, blowing its cover by looking at the two of you - her eyes jumped from Ghost to you, back and forth. Ghost was referring to your continuous attempts at teaching Bonnie all the basic commands - sit, give me five, lie down and to the leg, to be specific. The two of you even paid for a training course, which Bonnie loved - she loved obstacle courses and playing with other dogs and their owners. She was a social butterfly, that much was obvious to you.

"Nu-uh." - You dismissed categorically, shaking your head. - "I got nothing to do with her theatrics this time. Whatever this is, I didn't teach it to her." "What are you trying to achieve here, missy?" - Ghost wondered under his breath, leaning down to pet Bonnie on her tummy - she did her best to continue playing dead, but the wiggling of her tail gave her out. After Simon sat back up, a snicker of yours caught his attention - his stare was borderline offended, underlined with amusement as he turned his head to you.

"As I said, she's growing up to be a total heartthrob and a heartbreaker. Look at yourself, Ghost, you've fallen right into her schemes." - You explained in a whisper, dramatically pulling out the bag with her treats. The man scoffed in reaction to your action. "You'll do her this dirty? Look at her, she's doing her best. This is a new low, even for you." - Ghost noted, rolling his eyes playfully. "Watch and learn." - As you said this, your hand shook the bag. With portrayed drama, you pulled out one of her favourite chewing sticks, waving it around. - "Woah, it's so unlucky that I have this bag full of treats for Bonnie... I just wanted to give her one because she's been such a good girl, but look at her. My oh my."

In that instant, Bon got on her feet and ran to you, barking at you so you'd notice she was right there, alive and well. The shit-eating grin on your face was priceless, making Ghost lower his head in defeat. "Point still stands, Y/N, just look at the lass." - The man continued, putting his hoodie and backpack on. It became a recurring thing - he'd always take it off to make himself more comfortable. He rarely wore short-sleeved shirts, but he'd roll up his sleeves from time to time. There was a pretty intricate tattoo on his left arm, but you've never pointed it out. Hadn't even asked about its meaning either. While the base of your friendship was growing strong, it was still hard to determine where Ghost's 'that's enough of that' limit starts. "Oh, admit it, Mr. Military Man. Bon has you wrapped around her pretty little finger, my little minx." - With that, you finally gave the Bonniethe snack, so you and Ghost would have time to say goodbye as you walked him to the entrance. - "So, see you on Friday?" "Negative, ma'am. I got a meeting to attend, unfortunately." "What a tragedy, sir, you won't be able to get your regular dose of humour." "Speaking of which, you hadn't finished the joke earlier. You owe me one." "Right." - You nodded, expression turning serious. Simon felt this is either gonna be really good or very fucking bad. - "What do you call a shipment of military-issued T-Rexes?" "No fucking clue. What do I call that?" "Small arms." - You added triumphantly, grinning at your own joke. The wave of cringe hit Simon so hard he had to shake his head and take a deep breath.

"Fucking hell, Y/N. Maybe it's for the best I won't get my regular dose of your humour on Friday, this one'll haunt me in my dreams." "Oh, boo-hoo. Can you imagine know how hard did I have to dig for this fucking joke? I'm the funniest person you've met, just admit it already." "Haven't said you aren't." - The man answered silently, hovering over you as your hand rested on the doorknob.

So far, you weren't able to guess how Ghost felt about you. Yes, you concluded he enjoys your presence - he wouldn't be coming as much as he has if that wasn't the case. The two of you regularly met up during your lunch breaks for well over a month by that point. On the other hand, there was the fact that he still didn't entrust you with his civil name, his age, his phone number or other details you were anxious to know about the person you fancied. You weren't losing any hopes as of now, because there was something in the air. You didn't have the guts to name whatever it was, but the electricity was buzzing and chemical reactions were crackling. In moments when he looked at you like this, your breath hitched and your blood started to boil. Sometimes, it had gotten so bad that your body shivered and your lips started tingling ever so gently - that's how desperate you were to kiss him, to let his taste and smell intoxicate your brain, making you unable to concentrate on anything other than him. Oh, yes, another note to self - Ghost smelled so fucking good, with or without cologne. And dear God, didn't you love it when he wore his combat t-shirts so you could gawk at his body? Sometimes, you were pretty sure he was doing it on purpose. Once, Ghost came straight from the base - sweaty, after a training, dressed up in his tight combat gear. Your brain refused to compute on said occasion as he marched around the room, going on a tangent about something (not a clue what he was going off about) - your eyes were glued to his lovely bottom, it was a miracle you hadn't drooled all over your counter. Last note to self - his ass was very lovely.

"Say it, then. Admit that I'm the funniest person you've met." - You whispered, the corners of your lips turning into a devilish smile. "You know I can't." - Ghost opposed, ensuring his hoodie was zipped up to his ching. "You can and you will. It'll stay between us, not a word in front of Cassie, pinky promise - Johnny wouldn't get to know." "MacTavish is hot on your heels, ma'am. All he needs is a sprog of his own and his dad-joke arc will be complete, unfortunately for you." "You're no fun." - You mumbled, pretending to be upset over the dispute. Simon was smiling under the mask, knowing that in his eyes, Johnny's awful jokes wouldn't ever be as good as yours. With that, you unlocked the door, holding it open for Ghost. - "Hope the meeting will go alright." "It's just regular debriefing, Y/N, don't get worked up over essentially nothing - trust me, I'll be alright." "Sorry for worrying, then, Jesus Christ, Ghost. Can't you just take a compliment? Or me being worried for once?" "Where would be the fun in that, love?" - The man shrugged as he walked backwards, still looking at you while leaving.

You both loved and hated when Ghost did that - no way Ghost didn't know what effect this nickname in particular had. Sure - it was just a common phrase, and you've heard it a million times from your grandpas and uncles, but still... It detonated a bomb of butterflies in your stomach each fucking time. "Wouldn't be as fun if I didn't tease you, would it, now?" - Ghost let out smoothly, finally stepping out into the street. "See ya!" - You cried out, waving at him, watching as he disappeared behind the corner. Since Bonnie was too busy chewing on her snack, she didn't even catch that Ghost was gone. With you, it was a different story - smiling dreamily, you still stood in the opened door, leaning your burning cheek into the cold glass. Ghost had to know what he was doing to you and revelled in seeing you getting flustered, overthinking everything he said and getting giddy over each compliment or phrase that didn't have a meaning strictly given by the topic of conversation. - "... You fucking twat."

The rest of your shift went as usual - it was pretty calm since Rosemary's didn't get much traffic on Wednesdays. Things, however, started to feel a bit funky on Thursday - as if the world around you got a bit fuzzy and your eyes constantly burned, making you sleep throughout most of your day. You've taken Bon for regular walks as she was used to, but only after putting on a ridiculous amount of clothes. The first time you sneezed you knew you were doomed - your scheduled autumn flu just arrived in full force. Since you didn't have any shifts throughout the weekend because Cathy needed to up her hours, you decided to push through Friday regardless. Due to your state, however, you didn't have time or energy to prepare yourself for defeating said flu. As you gulped down on a painkiller, you noted there were only a couple of them left - when in the fuck were you supposed to get more or shop for veggies, tissues or cough syrup?

Usually, you liked to deem your work ethic flawless - on that particular Friday, however, you were sluggish and out of it entirely. Orders you'd complete in five minutes took you fifteen, your fingers weren't bending properly and your whole body ached. It was around three in the afternoon, less than three hours until closing time when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you. The man could immediately tell something was wrong - you didn't notice him as he strolled down the alley, you didn't acknowledge him until he stood in front of you. Bonnie, as usual, was all over him, barking loudly and happily. Even your attempted shush was weak and pathetic; Bon's barking made your headache even worse, each sound echoing inside your head. Usually, you'd gush over Ghost's presence - especially after you've been told he wouldn't make it on Friday. This time, you've just waved him off and turned around to have a big fat sneeze. The man stopped in his tracks, narrowed his eyes and watched you moan lightly, supporting the small of your back before making careful steps, and slugging around the shop.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing here?" "I don't know... Working? Like any normal person with a 9-5?" - You reiterated, rolling your eyes at the question before blowing your nose and coughing into the sleeve of your sweater. "Normal people with a 9-5 don't look like their rigour mortis just kicked in." "Very funny, Ghost, very funny." "I've been told I'm hilarious." - The man muttered, turning the sign on the door to 'closed'. - "It would be hilarious to pack your stuff and go home now to work on curing your flu, wouldn't it? That's sounds very fun, doesn't it?" "I don't think I appreciate your sense of humour." - You muttered back, turning the sign back to 'opened'. You could see his eyebrows shoot up and eyes narrowing even more, if possible. - "How was that... Whatever mumbo jumbo you had today? What was it again? Everything alright?"

"The debriefing went as it always does, that's why I've made it today. All good, they even let me off sooner. What's not good, however, is you." "Ouch. That was cold." - You sighed unenthusiastically and checked your watch. - "If you'd like to lay into me, just go home and rest. I have three hours to go and if you're not here to help..." "I might. You know what? I might." - Ghost mumbled under his breath, walking behind the counter to put his backpack next to yours, taking off his sweatshirt as he seamlessly moved around. You had a hard time believing what you've been looking at, so you got stuck watching as Ghost put one of the aprons on. Funnily enough, there is only one remaining - a pastel pink one. It looked cartoonish on a man of his figure with his 6'3 height, broad shoulders, sculptured muscles and menacing posture... It left very little to the imagination, revealing more than it covered.

"What are you up to?" - You asked, genuinely not catching his drift. "You said I can either stop laying into you and leave or become your sous-florist. I've made my decision." "You know jack shit about flowers, you're in the military." - You argued back as if Ghost didn't have a clue about what his occupation was, your voice becoming weaker and raspier with each word. "I'm well aware, cadet." - The man sighed, entwining his palms behind his back and straightening up, gaining at least two extra inches in height. As he watched you with his eyes narrowed and eyebrows knitted together, the fact that he's a high-ranking geezer in the SAS suddenly started making sense. The shift in atmosphere gave you goosebumps. - "We are going to cover each other's backs and ensure the mission ends in success, do you understand? You need my help - I'm here to help. I don't leave my soldiers behind. When this is done, I'll take you home and ensure you rest up - that's an order. Are we clear, cadet?" "Ghost..." "I said, are we clear, cadet?" - Ghost ignored, furrowing even more if that was possible. The stare in his eyes got burning, almost too comfortable to maintain, so you turned your head away, looking on your shoulder. "S-sir, yes, sir." - You got out before you sneezed again, meowling as the sneeze shook your head. God, you needed a bed, a painkiller, a shitload of napkins and sleep.

And so, you were forced to share your workspace with a rather terrifying military man because he refused to leave. No matter how many times you rebutted his decision, Ghost just shut you down with his military mumbo-jumbo; after your thirteenth try, you gave in to having him as your sous-florist. And, to your surprise... Ghost was quite handy with flowers. Little did you know Ghost learned most of it by simply watching you work - all the hours of wondering about your craft, of watching your fingers skillfully tie bows and fixing decorations in place were coming in handy. Putting theory into practice was a different story, but he was handy enough to make it work. Unbeknownst to both of you, there was also a side of him that longed to create art - he never had the time nor the chance to explore this side of himself due to his father's whims and unstable environment, but something about the process of creation calmed him down, grounded him, made him relaxed. Maybe this was something he could concentrate on after his therapist recommends him to find a therapeutic activity again. So far, he'd tried playing basketball and boxing, but neither of those had ever brought him as much peace. Sure, his flowers couldn't be compared to yours, but under your careful watch and a load of your help, he was bringing together acceptable flowers. Ghost hadn't come close to creating a bouquet, neither did he have the balls to do so - trying to tie a fucking ribbon around three roses without shouting profanities was hard enough.

"You know what?" - It was a whisper coming out of your mouth as you finally locked the fucking door of the shop. Ghost sat down and let out a long and tired sigh, massaging his face with his fingers. No exaggeration, he looked as if he just finished running a fucking marathon. "No, but I bet you'll enlighten me nonetheless, huh?" "Oh, haha. I was about to compliment you, but you're being a pain in my ass." "Apologies, ma'am. Go for it." "In case your military career fails, drop your CV here. You're not bad at this, I'll intercede in your name." "Why, thank you. I might do that nonetheless. Got the impression I'm a good florist myself." - The man joked back, watching you stumbling around in your apron - you were unable to tie the knot on your back and since there was a decent chance you had a fever too, you've been walking around while moaning silently. Even through the circumstances, Simon's ears perked up at first as he listened to the soft, helpless sounds escaping your mouth. God. He'd give anything to hear them as he'd hover over you, leaning down to kiss you while his fingers would... Clearing his throat, Simon stood up to walk behind you, undoing the apron. While he was at it, he gently smoother your forehead - you were sweaty as hell, and burning up also. Way more than he'd imagine.

"That's it, we've got to get you to bed and make you tea." "I think you might have a point here, actually."

Walking you home felt like a superhuman task - Bonnie was out of her mind, happily running around and barking, because your state forced the both of you to be inside the shop for the entire day. You've done your best to at least let her walk around the street, but that wasn't comparable to going on a walk. You were holding onto his elbow, feverishly looking around. You've been entirely out of order, that much was plainly obvious - all it took for Simon to determine was the veil cast over your eyes. Usually, there was this excited spark in your look, mainly when you smiled at him (which you did a good portion of the time you've spent together), but now, there was nothing. Your eyes were just aimlessly jumping from place to place as fever took over you, disconnecting you from reality. Getting you on and off the bus as well as up multiple flights of stairs was tricky. With all the remaining might you've had in you, you were trying to help Simon get into your flat, but he still had to wrap his arm around your waist to support you, carrying Bon on his other arm.

Usually, Simon would wait on the doorstep for you to invite him into your flat. It was just a formality, something so very dumb, he insisted on. That way, he'd be positive you actually wanted him in your personal space - yet due to your state, Simon spat on his personal set of rules. He waited until you fished out your keys, mumbling some mumbo-jumbo under your breath. Based on the expression on your face, Simon was pretty sure that whatever you were talking about was very important to you at the moment but he was unable to decipher the transmission. Waving your palms around, you cleared your throat and turned to him.

"I said, keep your shoes on." - You repeated weakly. - "It's fucking messy nonetheless. Also, would you be a doll and get me a painkiller and a glass of water? It's in the cupboard above the sink. I'll go ahead and change into something homey." "If I'd be a doll?" - Simon repeated after you, snickering. First, he set Bon on the ground, petting her before she ran off somewhere. - "Wouldn't you prefer some tea? Your voice sounds hoarse." "Well..." - You stuck your head out of what Simon believed was your bedroom, clearly dressed only in your bra and the pair of jeans that made your bum stand out nicely (yes, this pair was Simon's favourite, in fact). Right after, you slipped an oversized shirt over your head and started taking the bra off. Even though he'd love to stare at you like a deer in the headlights, Simon made the adult decision to clear his throat and look for the painkiller. - "To make tea, I'd have to have tea." "Are you fucking joking?" - Simon responded before he could stop himself. "About?" "Not having tea at home." "Why would I joke about not having tea at home?" "You live in the middle of London. Don't know if you're aware of that, but us Brits love tea." "Ghost, you're like really pretty and all, I like you a lot, but..." - You started off, making his eyes narrow - until he realized you were just trying to put his harangue to end. The tone of your voice made Simon lose himself for a bit before you continued with what you had to say.- "Please, give me the fucking painkiller."

"Yes, ma'am." - If you were fully conscious, you'd surely notice the warmth spreading on Simon's face, the baklava poorly hiding his smile as well as the pure adoration in his eyes - now, however, you just smiled at him and gulped the painkiller down. - "It was the last one in the package. Do you have some more hidden around? I could fetch them for you." - Ghost offered quietly, leaning his elbow into the doorframe as he gazed at you lovingly. Price would surely call him a lovesick puppy. "Oh-oh." "Oh-oh?" - Simon repeated after you, this time in pure disbelief. So you didn't have tea, you didn't have painkillers... Was there anything you did have? - "Do you have literally anything of use inside your flat?" - As he asked, you lifted your eyes up to him, your bottom quivering slightly. "Last week had been tough, okay? I was feeling horrible, I felt like I'm running behind, I didn't have time to..." "Me." - Simon whispered, smoothing your shoulder quickly to make sure you wouldn't start crying on him - his palm ghosted over your skin. - "That's what you'd say if you weren't sick. I'd like to think I'm quite useful. What's your conclusion on this statement, ma'am?" "That it's fucking sad." - You nodded to yourself, turning around to walk towards your bed. Slowly, you made sure you'd before you started to take your pants off. - "That fact that you have to make my own jokes for me? Blasphemy. What am I here for if you can't even joke around with me? You can talk to yourself at this point."

"Nonsense." - The man shut down immediately, watching as you started to tuck under the blanket. - "None of the jokes come across as good when you're not the one saying them. You're the funniest person I've met." - Now, you gave Ghost a smug smile - with a grunt, you laid on your back and let him help with tucking you in. "Ha, suck it, Johnny! I fucking knew it." "Don't you blow my cover, deal, ma'am?" "I wouldn't do that, sir. If you'd like to hang around for a bit, it's fine with me. Do whatever you'd like, eat whatever you find, make yourself some coffee... I'd... Feel safer, knowing I'm not alone in here. If you'd like to order a take-out, just take some of my money, I owe you one." "As you wish, Y/N - about the last part, however, negative." - Simon whispered, smoothing your forehead for the last time. - "I'll take care of everything, okay? Don't you worry." "Sounds good, Ghost. Thank you."

As Simon promised, he set out to do - he started by creating an extensive shopping list of everything you might need to recover from your illness... And dear fucking Jesus, there wasn't anything inside the cupboards, the fridge and the pantry sure had seen better days as well. You clearly weren't joking when you said you hit a rough patch. A lot of daily necessities were seemingly missing, ranging from tea, painkillers, and cough syrup all the way to ingredients for cooking a simple meal. Or it was caused by Simon's routines - most of the things he considered daily necessities didn't necessarily have to be on your list.

When the list was completed, Simon kneeled in your hall and clicked his tongue a few times - the furry ball of love was running to him in an instant, holding the edge of a small blanket for babies between her fangs, as if she wanted to show it to him. It looked like Bonnie was particularly fond of this piece of cloth. "Oh, that's just wonderful, babes, is that yours?" - The man murmured, melting at the sight of Bonnie as he petted her gently. His brain was just starting to get a grip - he was inside your flat with you sleeping in the next room. It was easy to let his mind wander a bit, to imagine he'd be putting his shoes in the same shoe rack, hanging his jackets on the same hanger, and sitting beside you on your small sofa with a floral pattern. - "What about a walk, huh? A lass like you needs a long stretch, doesn't she?"

Five minutes later, with your keys attached to his keychain, the duo stepped into the London wilderness. He'd been well-travelled when it came to London, but your part of town was a mystery to him. Finding a fucking supermarket was hard enough, let alone the fucking drug store. As Simon recited everything he deemed necessary to the pharmacist, her expression was becoming more and more stoic the longer the interaction went on. Simon could see the situation being a bit humorous - a 6'3 man with baklava hiding holding a puppy in one of his arms while simultaneously holding three paper bags coming from a nearby supermarket in the other, buying almost two other bags of various medical stuff. The lady, her name was Marianne, was close to asking Simon what the fuck does he need all this for, but she decided against it in the end. After getting Bonnie a cup of her own ice cream (she went crazy for it, seemingly not tasting it until that day), the duo set on their way home. Simon brought you enough tea for an entire month, fresh pastries, butter he deemed the best, a load of permanent food (canned beans were just the beginning) and some veggies, fruits and other goods he was pretty sure you'd find use for. Your lunch breaks gave him a good idea about what you liked concerning food.

When the two arrived back at the flat, it was silent and dark - only your light snoring gave away that someone was inside. - "How about you run off while I clean up and cook something for mummy, hm?" - Simon whispered to Bonnie while letting her off the leash, watching as she ran straight for her blanket, jumping on the sofa right after. Due to her constant whimpering and her attempts to give Simon the remote, he concluded she'd like to watch something. So Bonnie was into TV, huh? He'd never figure this out on his own. Letting music play silently in the background, Simon started preparing the kitchen so he'd have somewhere to cook his famous veggie broth. In this process alone, he completely reorganised it, making sure everything was easily visible and accessible, and clean as if you just brought it home from the convenience store. Simultaneously, he started preparing you a cup of hot tea and the mentioned coughing syrup, because the longer he'd been in the flat, the more coughing came from behind the closed door. And it didn't sound good at all.

Coming into your room, your back was to be turned to the door. It was hard to say, honestly - you seemingly disappeared inside your enormous bed, hiding under an even bigger, thick blanket. Carefully, Simon set the cup on your night table along with the dose of syrup, sitting on the bed with utmost caution. You didn't seem to notice him, dead asleep. Carefully, Simon stuck his palm under the blanket so smooth your shoulder, making you moan with displeasure - goosebumps immediately formed on your skin, informing Simon that the painkiller might've lowered the fever, but you still had chills. "Hey there, sleepyhead... Delivery service. It'll be just a moment and then I'll fuck off, promise." - Ghost whispered, waiting for you to lay down on your back before carefully helping you to sit up.

"What time is it?" - You wondered, accepting the warm tea from Simon. It wasn't boiling hot anymore but it wasn't ice cold either, it was just the right temperature for you to drink half a cuppa in one go. "Still pretty early, you can sleep after you take some of this." - Ghost smiled with his eyes, shaking the small plastic cup of syrup in front of your eyes. "Where did... Where did you get all this? I specifically remember telling you I'm out of tea... And I know I checked for cough syrup yesterday." "Bonnie really wanted to go out for a walk, so we stopped by a few shops, nothing grand." "And what's that wonderful smell?" - You pushed on relentlessly, eyeing Ghost with raising suspicion. "Vegetable broth." "Ghost!" - You squealed, but regretted it very soon - with silent cusses, you started to massage your throat. - "Did you at least take my wallet to pay for my fucking purchases?" "Wanna know the total?" "So you didn't, fucking amazing. Also - yea? Of course, let me pay you right back." "It's precisely... Don't worry about it. It's my treat. How did you phrase it? I don't want a single dime." "Are you insane?" "Been told I am." - Ghost snickered, ending the discussion. - "I gotta go check on how's the broth doing, I'll bring you a bowl when it's done, yeah?" "Fine, wacko. Thank you so much for doing... All of this for me. I can't appreciate it enough." "It's nothing, stinky face. Rest up." "And Ghost?" - You called out just before Simon walked out of the door, so he held it open to hear whatever else you had on your mind. - "I love this song, could you leave the door ajar for me? I'm sure Bonnie loves it too. Pretty sure it's on top of the list of our favourites."

Simon didn't answer your request, he just did as you asked him to. After checking on the broth, he wandered around the flat for a bit before mindlessly starting to clean up. Not that he'd find the flat dirty, it was pretty tidy actually, but he wanted to kill time somehow. In the process of folding clothes laying around into stacks (the military was to be blamed for that), including your fucking coat for some reason. He'd changed all the burned-out candles, done the dishes and started to put all the groceries where they seemingly belonged. After he was done with being the housewife, Simon started picking various books and other items lying around and did his best to put them in their place - books into the bookshelves, leaving various papers and documents lying on the coffee table for you to sort out.

After this, there were truly no chores to perform. The broth still had ten minutes to go and no matter how much Simon tried to resist, he couldn't but snoop around a bit. He went over the photos on your fridge - most of them seemed to be taken when you were out with your friends or family, having you smile at the camera or perform various grimaces, making the others either do the same or laugh happily. There was an old photo of you way back when - it had to be the yearbook photo because while you tried your best to smile, it was painfully obvious you were uncomfortable. There was one under the fridge, Simon noticed on accident, basically - as he bent to pick it up, the expression on his face froze.

It was the guy. The guy he tailed a month ago with his arm over your shoulder. You, seemingly enjoying the moment, were kissing the guy's cheek, your palm splayed all over his chest - one of the easiest ways to spot a dating couple based on picture only. As he turned it around, there was just a simple sentence handwritten in the corner - Billy and I, spring of '23. Simon's footing seemed to be unsteady all of a sudden. Was Billy your boyfriend, then? If he was, the two of you didn't seem to live together. Why was the heated argument in Rosemary's about? Maybe you've broke up recently and Billy was trying to weasel back into your life? Could this be the reason? If you had a sentimental attachment to Billy, though, you'd notice a photo of your sweetheart missing on the fridge. The photo wouldn't be lying under it, between all the dust and other mess that generally gathered in the kitchen, would it? As Simon tried to figure out what to do with the photo, his eyes wandered back to all the disorganized papers he found lying all over the flat.

There was an envelope - it wasn't big, presumably just normal mail. And the sender was named Wiliam. Could these two be connected? Could that be the same person? Against his better judgment, Simon pulled the letter out to read what this William guy wanted from you. Each word made his eyes widen and each line edged Simon to break something. By the time he was done reading the letter, he was nodding to himself, doing his best to keep on biting the inner side of his cheek. If he was connecting the dots correctly, Billy was definitely William. And William was a piece of shit. The throwaway line was starting to make a whole fucking more sense - she is a good judge of character, better than her mum anyways... What was apparent from the letter was that the two of you broke up some time ago - and Billy wasn't taking it well. That son of a whore called you so many names in the letter it was almost impressive - but he also belittled you, made sure you know how much of scum and whore you are to him and in the end asked to see you again. Well, it wasn't a request, came off as an order in Ghost's opinion. And well, as they say, and as far as Ghost could assume - it never takes too much from mental abuse to slip into physical. Based on the letter's stamp, it came three days ago. Billy wasn't done with you, it seemed - this man couldn't seemingly forget about you, in fact.

Ghost was standing in the middle of your living room, trying to keep his shit together. As Ghost once said to Johnny - choices have consequences. And Billy made a hell of a choice. Now, he regretted his decision to leave Billy off the hook. Simon should've tailed him longer. He should've got on the fucking bus with him and made sure to question him regarding you. Maybe pack a few good punches here and there, beating the everliving shit out of him as a warning of what's to come next if Billy even considers coming near you. It took all his will to put the letter and the photo on your coffee table and fish out his phone - Ghost wasn't too far from waking you up, asking you about Billy's address.

"Hey, Si, is everything okay?" - A familiar female voice answered as soon as the call connected. "Hey, Cass. Hope I haven't called at a bad time." "Not at all. Do you need anything? Did the debriefing go bad? Johnny said you aced it - like you always do." "Went as it usually does, you know the drill. Got a favour to ask you." "All ears, Si." - Cassie confirmed, officially stopping doing whatever she was paying attention to. "Y/N's really sick, so I helped her to get home from work - but I gotta be somewhere soon. Would you look after her for the night? I'd assume she's gonna be better tomorrow." - Simon explained, lying as if there was no tomorrow. He had to leave the flat, no matter how much he wanted to stay. It will be best if he just goes to a pub, sedating all the feelings with alcohol.

"Y/N? Which Y/N?" - Cassie asked, doing her best impression of playing dumb. She was trying to pretend you didn't try to find out everything you could Simon on your hangout two weeks ago. "Miss florist." "Oh! Do you two know each other? What a small world." "I'd like to tell you this story some other time. Can I count on you?" "Yes, Si, I'll look after her. I'll be there in ten, just wait for me, okay?" "Thank you, Cass. I owe you one." "Not a chance."

[honeyweaselcandles]

Candle Catalogue

Here you can find a list of all the candles I have on offer, with a link to the page to buy them and a description of the scent of said candle. It will also contain my commission information, all under the read more.

Commissions

Linked above is my commission form, once submitted I will look it over and contact you when I am ready to begin discussing it with you. Depending on other orders/commissions/my own schedule, I may not get back to you right away. Commissioned candles are, of course, more customizable than my premade variety. If you want a specific kind of vessel for your candle, for example, provided you have the funds I can make something different than my usual metal tins.

Commissioned candles do not have to be fandom related. You're welcome to commission a candle with a specific scent you like and can't find elsewhere, for religious purposes, or just about any reason you can think of. You could also commission a candle I make already, with modifications, in a different container or subbing out a scent. You could make your own blend for a character I already offer, anything at all is on the table.

If you do get a commission in my standard 4 oz tin as many people do, however, here are my prices:

To clarify: if I already own the scents necessary for what you want, there will be no extra charge. If I need to purchase new ones because I don't own them yet, that is what would cost extra.

Pre-made Candles

Here I will list all of my currently available candles and their scents, with links attached.

Egbert: Fresh air, light florals, white musk, coconut, zingy lime, bright blue razzberry gushers. (Tealight Link)

Julian Devorak: Orchid, rosemary, seasalt, black coffee, and a hint of leather. (Tealight Link)

Asra Alnazar: A mix of bright citruses, green tea, sage, with a pop of blue raspberry. (Tealight Link)

Rose Lalonde: Roses, lilac, fresh rain, and old books. (Tealight Link)

Jade Harley: Green leaves, fresh fallen snow, turned earth, and light musk. (Tealight Link)

Dave Strider: Juicy apple, thyme, sandalwood, jasmine, and vinyl. (Tealight Link)

Jane Crocker: French vanilla, almond cupcakes, and tobacco smoke. (Tealight Link)

Roxy Lalonde: Sweet cotton candy, orchids, and sea spray. (Tealight Link)

Jake English: Caramel popcorn, pine, cut wood, cedar, and woodsmoke. (Tealight Link)

Dirk Strider: Orange soda, teakwood, amber, hints of motor oil and steel. (Tealight link)

Aradia Megido: Graveyard dirt, black cherry, and petrichor. (Tealight Link)

Tavros Nitram: Worn playing cards, rock sea cliffs, warm caramel, and coconut. (Tealight Link)

Sollux Captor: Honey, apple, sage, lemon and citrus. (Tealight Link)

Karkat Vantas: Warm cotton sweaters, coffee, and maraschino cherry. (Tealight Link)

Nepeta Leijon: Dry leaves, dirt, chamo-meow-ile, mint, and a touch of patchouli. (Tealight Link)

Kanaya Mayram: Rosemary, blackberries, pepper, clean linens, and steel. (Tealight Link)

Terezi Pyrope: Dragon's blood and fruity red kool-aid. (Tealight Link)

Vriska Serket: Blood orange, grapefruit, lemon, ginger, and steel. (Tealight Link)

Gamzee Makara: Baked goods, lime, cannabis, and sea salt. (Tealight Link)

Eridan Ampora: Violets, cashmere scarves, crackling ozone, and sea spray. (Tealight Link)

Feferi Peixes: Ocean air, teakwood, fresh strawberries, and sakura blossoms. (Tealight Link)

Calliope: Brown sugar, linen, books, and lime. (Tealight Link)

Pink Frog: Bubble gum

Frog Candles

Bi Pride Frog: Rose, cashmere, black cherry, firewood, and amber.

Green Frog: Vetiver, green moss, rain water, and violets.

Gay Pride Frog: Fruity grapefruit, lemon, and raspberry.

Trans Pride Frog: Daisy, cotton candy, and honey.

Nonbinary Pride Frog: Honey, frankincense and myrrh, turned earth, and a drop of motor oil.

Lesbian Pride Frog: Cinnamon, honeysuckle blossoms, and strawberry.

[greenapricot]

wip thursday

I didn't manage to post yesterday, but I've decided I can do what I want.

This is from chapter 4 of The Names of All the Winds. The chapter has been giving me all kinds of trouble (and made me realize that I really am going to have to finish a full draft of each chapter to work out the lore before I can post chapter 2), but I think I finally cracked it this morning.

____

The church bells ring out eleven. Robbie stands a moment longer as clouds cast quickly moving shadows across the water, and the chiming of the bells echoes through the narrow streets of the village below, then turns down the path.

The path leads to a street that’s little more than a lane, following the steep slope past stone walls with flowering rosemary cascading over top, and two storey stone houses that look as if they may be unchanged since the first mystics planted the olive groves that stretch up the mountain on terraces behind his B&B.

With all his years living in Oxford, Robbie is well used to old buildings—many of them older than these—but here, it’s not only the architecture, or even the landscape. There is that presence as well. He hasn’t felt it as strongly as he did the day he found James busking in that little out of the way piazza, but it has been there, sort of hovering in the background, ever since the first night he came north. He just hadn’t realised what it was until it mingled with James’ music and led him through the streets.

Robbie’s grown used to the presence by now, even a bit fond of it. It feels almost as if it’s keeping him company while he travels around on his own. Which is a bit mad, the idea of some ancient power wanting to have anything to do with him specifically. Most likely it’s a sign that the stories James told him about the great protector beast that dwells in the depths of the lake have gone to his head.

All the same, it is rather nice to be alone and yet not feel alone. To feel a gentle nudge down one lane or another when he’s got no particular destination in mind and nowhere he needs to go, like a walking companion matching his stride; not unlike the way he and James had fallen into step with each other.

Has Laura felt this presence too, he wonders? Is this why she suggested Lago di Garda as a destination? She didn’t mention it, but then if she had before he was here to feel it for himself, he would have scoffed at the very idea of it. May have even picked a different holiday destination entirely.

[ezaroth]

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐌 𝐈? ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

𓇢𓆸 DISCLAIMER: by no means am i demanding you must worship me. this is simply a written guide and general informative post for those who wish to do so of their own free will.

i am Ezaroth, god of wisdom, knowledge, love, beauty, transitions, and boundaries. i extend my bloodstained hands in guidance, navigating matters of the heart, and transitioning. what ails you, dreamer? is it unrequited love? or perhaps your lack of erudition on a particular subject? allow me to listen to your worries, your hopes, your heartache, your wishes, your prayers . . .

read on to learn more about me and my symbolism + significance as a deity . . .

𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍: the boundless mind, the vast ocean, the boundary between the afterlife and process of reincarnation, sweet dreams, anywhere where love is abundant

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: hydrangea (specifically blue and pink) infused libations, letters, hymns, (playing) a stringed instrument, singing, blood, feathers (especially swan feathers), beauty rituals, mirror work

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐒: n/a

𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐒: swans, doves, owls, hummingbirds, butterflies

𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐒: rose quartz, clear quartz, amethyst

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄: dragon’s blood, rosemary

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒: white, silver, blue, pink

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒: hydrangeas

i was first an angel fallen from the heavens transformed into a god of wisdom and knowledge foremost, a record keeper, but my domain also extended to love and beauty as well as transitions and boundaries. i feel that my main symbols included a swan feather quill and blood of the departed as ink. i believe my primary job amongst my significant duties were to write out every detail of the deceased’s life with the blood of their previous vessel to pass it on into the lifestream so that their soul remembers who they were before reincarnating to program the reincarnated spirit with the latent energies of who they once were. my values included communication and balance.

i often appeared in a form much like the images of this post, androgynous typically but i was known to project myself as either female or male.

[baladric]

for the flash fic, keeping in line with last night's question, thara celehar in the pirate au, like just whatever he's up to, also no pressure to do this if you would need to consult with someone else to do so

okay LISTEN i hope you jive with the idea of thara fleeing the ethuveraz to neighboring celvaz as a result of the wild fucking xenophobia/bigotry that's risen in the ethuveraz after the war that broke out over maia's disappearance, bc i was desperately possessed of the need to play with him accidentally getting tangled up with faeries. also this is long so i'm read more'ing

*

"The trouble is the house," said Colum Walsh. He was a rustic painting of a man, somewhat squat and hardy looking with the odd, rounded ears and brilliantly red hair of the Cel. He was of the age when one's skin begins to yield to life as the earth yields to the long-trod destiny path, and though I found his doddery ebullience and the volume of his voice to be tiring, I still found in myself a certain regret for the incontrovertible evidence of a life of sorrow and stress in this man's newly lined face. He was kind in a way that asked only for listening ears, and had I any power over the ways of the wider world, I would have wished for him a gentler life than it seemed he had lived.

"So you've said," I replied, prompting him as I watched my feet on the uneven path we took through a thin copse of trees. I would have preferred the main thoroughfare, but Mr. Walsh was the concept of hurry made manifest, and so I had permitted him the use of his chosen shortcut from pub to our destination—which was, I saw at a glance through a break in the trees, a cottage of the Celvadeise style, bare stone with a gabled, wood-shingled roof and windows of a thick, untempered glass. From here, I could see that the garden though clearly once carefully cultivated, had sprung its bonds and sprawled into a mess of overgrown mint and rosemary and the odd native creeper.

"You know about brownies, of course," Mr. Walsh said, stepping over a jutting tree root with the unthinking ease of long habit, and crossing thence beyond the edge of the little wood.

"Hearth spirits of a sort," I said, taking a bit more care with the root myself. "Transactional, but loyal."

"Aye," he said. "Though I wouldn't call them spirits, really, if you'll forgive me saying so, mer. Language is tricksy with the Fair Folk, you know—they're so quick to offense, makes you want to be specific, you ken?"

I knew the sort, though I did not say so. Cels, I had learned, were wary of discussion of elves, and the more time I spent beyond the borders of my native Ethuveraz, the deeper my understanding went. It was a cold, tricksome, conditional land when juxtaposed with the heathery moors and rolling green of Celvaz, and its fiery and forthright people.

"Hearth fey, then," I said. "You believe your brownies have turned?"

We had reached the little gate at the edge of the property, and here, Mr. Walsh paused.

"It's the oddest thing," he said, his voice turning thoughtful. "Not unheard of, really, but it takes a foolhardy few months of neglect for one as old as this to go off, and I've not missed a full moon's offering or a solstice gift in... Stones below, it's got to be something like decades."

That was curious, I thought, and drew up beside him to study the house.

Only an hour ago, ensconsced in the warm, dimly lit pub at the center of Bisby Town, he had told me that his house had begun falling apart a little over a month ago. In light of the time frame, I had expected the scruffy garden, of course, perhaps a certain ricketiness of window boxes, a fallen shingle or two.

Colum Walsh's house, however, was on its knees in the creeper. The window sashes sagged apocalyptically, the broad paving stones of the little path rocked and cracked with marauding weeds. Far from the anticipated shedding of shingles were the signs of wood rot in the roof. From just this quick assessment, I guessed with a great deal of concern that the rot had extended into the crossbeams supporting the roof from the inside, and that the structure itself was likely in danger of collapsing in on itself. One window had clearly been covered from the inside with a sheet, for the panes had shattered entirely, and the one on the far side of the peeling sun-yellow door looked to not be far behind it.

Which was to say that it was the sort of disrepair that took years, not a single month.

I did not realize I was being studied in turn until Mr. Walsh spoke, a wry sort of amusement in his voice.

"That bad, huh?"

I cleared my throat, and took a moment to refit my tongue to the rounded burr of Celvadeise; though I had been in the country for nearly three years, I was still not what I would call fluent. It did not help matters that I could feel my Ethuverazhin slipping away under the constancy of this new language—a turn that bothered me far more than I liked—and so I had been taking some care to at least think in my mother tongue. And if I occasionally spoke Ethuverazhin to the cats that tended to find me wherever I was, well, that was nobody's business but my own.

"I can see what has you so worried," I said simply. With a gesture at the gate upon which Mr. Walsh had rested his hand, I continued. "May I see it closer?"

Mr. Walsh lept to action, swinging the gate wide and ushering me through with an excited trickle of words. We walked the perimeter together, him pointing out the myriad damages to structure and property alike while I, maintaining my silence, began ever so gently to expand my senses to the particular frequency of the Fair Folk.

To say it had been a surprise the first time a fairy spoke to me would be understating the matter significantly. For while I am nothing if not accustomed to the communion of spirits outside myself, it had never extended beyond the realm of the dead—and the recently dead, at that. I was not a maza, nor was I anything like the folkloric clairvoyants one used to hear about from the Barizheise sometimes, in the days before the Three Years' War.

I had been in Celvaz only a month, the first time, having talked my way (pantomimed, really, for I had only known a few interrogatives in the native tongue at that point, and, embarrassingly, the word for weasel) into a barter with a moderately forgiving farmer—maintenance work on his dairy barn in exchange for two meals a day and a spot to sleep in the hay loft. It was hard, dreary work, but I had begun to adjust to it and find new patterns to tread through my days.

One of these rituals had been long, rambling walks past the borders of the farmer's land. The rolling hills went gold and purple with the sunset, and though I had never been one for the pastoral, I found in those spare, glowing minutes a kind of peace that had been absent from my life for as long as I could remember.

It was one of those evenings, the sun having just dipped below the horizon, though it still lit the sky with rich godfingers of colors for which I lacked proper names, when I tripped over a hummock of raised earth and toppled right into a faerie's burrow.

What followed was a dizzying flurry of curses I could not even hope to follow in a strange language, the startling prickle of something like static lightning washing over me, and finally, the extraction of a promise—an eventuality against which, I realized later, I had been thoroughly warned already.

You can see me, can hear me, can tread in the shadows I walk—and so you will help me and raise not a fight against me or my kin when we come in the night—or the day, for the Fey don't go away like they say is the way of the ones who burn up in the rays of the great glowing dawn. Oh, don't make that face, you try rhyming all the time, Mer Elf.

And so, to my great humiliation, I found himself to be a cautionary tale: Unwary foreigner pacted in service to the Fey.

And so, here I stood, doing my duty in the laying of my hand against the unreasonably cold stone of the decaying house.

Mr. Walsh prattled in the background, having not yet noticed my stillness, and I pressed all thought of him to the back of my mind as I sank into the immaterial essence of the place that spoke to the long presence of a faerie.

The brownie did not notice me at first, which proved itself a boon, as it gave me time to brace for the cacophony that crashed into me the instant I entered its awareness.

There were no words here, not at first—simply anger and a great deal more of that prickling which I had come to recognize as the particular maz of the Fair Folk. I took care to remain quiescent and let the storm of emotion wash over me, for it was not so different an experience from the communion with a person who had died in rage. And, in time, it passed, and the brownie drew back enough to observe.

I opened my eyes, and there she stood: golden brown skin, dark hair made lush with curls and tufty braids looped with beads and ribbons and tattered bits of lace. As with most Fey I had seen, her eyes were unnervingly large, a startling purple in her heart-shaped face. She grimaced at me in the way of a snarl, a neat rack of jagged teeth, sharp as vinegar.

"Who?" she asked, her voice a crackling thing, full of eons of cookfires stoked high.

Having learned my lesson, I bowed nearly as deeply as I would to the Emperor himself, and said, "I am called Celehar."

Those great eyes narrowed.

"The Witness," she said.

"Yes," I said. "I am here on behalf of the man whose home you share. He would like to know how he can regain your favor, madam."

*

It was not quite like awakening when I came back to myself, but I had no other word for it.

Time had passed in my absence, night settling fully around my ears and a chill creeping through the sturdy wool of my coat. I blinked, and found Mr. Walsh fidgeting from the seat he had taken on the crumbling garden wall. He jolted to his feet when I cleared my throat, his eyes wide, face a pale moon in the darkness.

"Mer Celehar!" he said, hurrying to me with outstretched hands. I allowed him to touch my arm before easing away.

"She doesn't like the milkweed," I said, sounding exactly as thirsty as I was; the single ale I had allowed myself at the pub had been hours ago.

"The... milkweed?" Bafflement was an unflattering look on Mr. Walsh, his eyes bugging out and mouth gaping to show a few missing teeth and the gold of what must have been an extremely costly filling.

"It brought butterflies last year," I said. "Monarchs. Her family has had a feud with their kind for..." I closed my eyes. "Oh, some long stretch of eons. She does not want them to come back."

Mr. Walsh blinked.

"Butterflies," he said.

"Butterflies," I echoed, and after a long pause, we were both helpless to do anything but laugh.

[alexiavonv]

I'm gonna start writing some little summaries of each session of my D&D campaign, Seas of Treachery, a pirate campaign inspired by One Piece and shonen in general. First, however, some background.

The campaign is set in a world covered in ocean, dotted with fantastical and diverse islands. Living in the oceans are special, divine fish demigods known as meeregeists. These meeregeists preside over specific aspects of the world, such as blood, light, frogs, or even oddly specific things like seaweed. These meeregeists gain their power through the mysterious magic that flows through every living thing, known as Espíritu. While meeregeists have the capacity to understand Espíritu entirely, people and animals do not, and are unable to use the power of espíritu unless they're taught by a meeregeist. Though in years past they've been stingy with sharing their secrets, in more modern times they've come around to share them more often. When given their knowledge, you gain an Espíritu Archetype (your class) and a special, unique Espíritu Power.

Likewise in modern times, each island tends to have its own local government, but a vast majority of those island governments pledge allegiance to the Naval Tribunal, a council of four of the greatest admirals and the Alteza (high king) of the Kingdom of Barthélonia. The Tribunal handle matters of trade, war, treaties, treatises, and so forth - similar to the United Nations, just... more evil and with more power.

About 70 years ago, a pirate rose to prominence fighting against the Tribunal (as well as plundering and doing the classic pirate stuff), named Barbarosa. His campaigns against the Tribunal lasted about 50 years, ending due to him falling sick and dying. On his death bed, he told his first mate that he had found a map to the secrets of espíritu, and that he hid it somewhere across the seas. Word got out of this, and inspired both by his ideology and his treasure, a new age of piracy has begun.

And now, for an obligatory section about the characters in the campaign. All art is drawn by my amazing gf and player @/DandelionDani on twitter or @/dandelion.dani on tiktok!

Malizia "Biting Izzy" Scaltro (She/Her)

I'm gonna keep these descriptions brief to avoid spoilers and etc. Izzy is some sort of living dead(?), a champion (warlock) of an unknown meeregeist, from an unknown island. Her main thing is that she's off her rocker - making out of pocket responses, saying shit that makes no sense unless you're deeply aware of her internal thought process, etc. She is the shipwright of the Funsize Crew, which she is assisted in by her Espíritu Power: Scuttle, which gives her extra mage tentacles (hands) to use as she wishes.

Rosemary, AKA Rosie the Renegade (She/Her)

Rosemary is a ghost child, accursed (sorcerer), and the captain of the Funsize Crew. She's a shithead child - a shithead ghost child, no less - and thus, chaos is her MO. She sails the crew's ship by possessing it with her Espíritu Power: Soul Pilot. She's the sister of Triggerfish, and the rightful owner of the Ol' Treachery (the crew's ship).

Triggerfish, AKA Trig, AKA The Terror of the Deep, AKA Dragon of the Ol' Treachery, AKA... (She/They)

Trig is a seadragon/loong, rager (barbarian), and the Buccaneer (weapons master) of the Funsize Crew. Trig is bratty, younger seadragon that was harpooned and fished up by Rob-Rōnna, a close friend of the crew and former first mate of Barbarosa, who then adopted her and begun to raise her. She's quite possessive of anything she deems hers, including her friends, and she will defend her stuff with her life. Her Espíritu Power: Longform allows her to eat fallen enemies to grow l o n g e r.

Srian "Evil Eye" Balor (they/them/any)

Srian is a half-elf/FirLaghairt, brawler (monk) and mage (wizard) multiclass from the island of Mesozoa. They are the chef of the Funsize Crew, as well as the tallest member of the crew (assuming Trig is in her human form). Srian's main thing is that they don't know jack about shit, probably no fault of their own. They come from an isolated island, so the world outside of it is full of new and exciting things around every corner! Their espíritu power has yet to be used as of writing this...

Lady Alyssane Martell (She/Her)

Alys is a tabaxi, shadowslip (rogue), and the only squeador (essentially a licensed, respected pirate) of the party. She originally worked with a mercenary company as a navigator, but has decided to stick alongside the Funsize Crew for her own reasons. She's a domineering, tactical, cold woman who fears the water and craves doubloons. Her Espíritu Power: Nothing Personal allows her to teleport behind an enemy. And it's really cool.

Glycerin, AKA Bitter Medicine (they/them)

Glycerin is sickly squid person, inventor (artificer), and they are the quartermaster of the Funsize Crew. Glycerin is a very complex, high concept character, so I'll definitely lose some information in translation. Glycerin has multiple personalities that seem to switch at random (though they tend to stick with one for a while at a time), but the party perceives the primary Glycerin as the soft, meek personality that they met first. There is also a much more confrontational, harsh-spoken personality that seems to be friendly, just brash. I believe there's a third personality as well, but we don't yet know much about them. Glycerin is sick with something, and has a massive, 10-foot tall transforming IV rack multitool with them at all times. Their Espíritu Power: Intravenous Acceleration allows them to hook their allies into the IV rack, which grants special buffs.

Here's the party lineup!

(We thought it would be hilarious to put them on a clipart pirate ship for the second image)

And now that that's all out of the way, stay tuned cause I'm gonna split this up into a few posts

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