#i take thee witch

[sakuraspoke]

31 days of ghost // day 3 - favourite song from: opus eponymous ⸸

We may say that all who are so deluded by devils, not reckoning any other bodily infirmities, are lacking in the gift of divine grace. And so it is said in Tobias VI: The devil has power against those who are subject to their lusts. All witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which is, in women, insatiable.

malleus maleficarum // burning witches // the witches (coloured) stand by him // carnal // frenzy of exultations // conventus

a shout out to @dolceterzo whose amazing 31 days of ghost posts inspired this ♡︎

[baddhistory]

What Is This, Anyway?

A youtube channel! Well, specifically, it's the blog of a youtube channel that I'm creating for the specific purpose of putting some good, engaging, actually-fucking-cited history video essays out there.

See, it occurred to me a while ago that maybe, just maybe, all the American zoomers and millennials going around saying things like "I feel like my history education was severely lacking, because in 2020, all the sudden all these protests were referencing historical events that I'd never even heard of, and I really want to know more about history," might actually want to know more about history. And that maybe, just maybe, the reason people weren't engaging with history had less to do with the idea we've somehow been sold that it's Inherently Boring and more to do with lack of access.

The problem is, when I looked around the internet at accessible "history" on platforms like podcasts, TikTok, and Youtube (and, frankly, Tumblr), there were ~4 categories:

Well-researched, accurate history, but boring as fuck*

Pretty well-researched, but lacking citations, context, and/or using outdated, incorrect analysis**

One-off videos, which then become part of the discourse because they sound plausible - sometimes true, usually partly true, partly hyperbole or incorrect extrapolation.

Complete Lies, Now With A Grain Of Truth! - hot takes on history by people who are either conspiracy theorists, propagandists, lying grifters, or all three***

But I am a historian. I work with a lot of brilliant, entertaining, thoughtful, ethical, careful historians who have a lot of interesting things to say, and whose work, I think, would land incredibly well with people who are looking online for history they never got taught in school. It's just that our discipline doesn't value digital projects, for some reason, and that a lot of historians are too busy, and that a lot of us are not great with technology.

And but so anyway, I'm good at public speaking****, know my way around modern technology pretty well, care a lot about history and particularly the way we teach and learn it, and get really irritated both by historians who shrug and say "Well, guess people don't care about history anymore," instead of "How can we reach out to people who want to learn history," and by, well, the bad history I see masquerading as good history across the web.

Because people who want to learn deserve better!

[it has only just occurred to me that putting footnotes in the tags means they will not show up in reblogs. future footnotes will be behind a readmore cut.]

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Someone asked me to expand a little on a topic that was buried down in a big chain of reblogs, so I'm doing that here--it's about the use of the archaic "thee", "thou", "thy", etc. in LOTR and what it tells you about characters’ feelings for one another. (I am NOT an expert on this, so it's just what I've picked up over time!)

Like many (most?) modern English speakers, I grew up thinking of those old forms of 2nd person address as being extra formal. I think that's because my main exposure to them was in the Bible ("thou shall not...") and why wouldn't god, speaking as the ultimate authority, be using the most formal, official voice? But it turns out that for a huge chunk of the history of the English language, "thee," "thou," and "thy" were actually the informal/casual alternatives to the formal "you", “your”, “yours”. Like tú v. usted in Spanish!

With that in mind, Tolkien was very intentional about when he peppered in a "thee" or a "thou" in his dialogue. It only happens a handful of times. Most of those are when a jerk is trying to make clear that someone else is beneath them by treating them informally. Denethor "thou"s Gandalf when he’s pissed at him. The Witch King calls Éowyn "thee" to cut her down verbally before he cuts her down physically. And the Mouth of Sauron calls Aragorn and Gandalf "thou" as a way to show them that he has the upper hand. (Big oops by all 3 of these guys!)

The other times are the opposite--it's when someone starts to use the informal/casual form as a way to show their feeling of affection for someone else. Galadriel goes with the formal "you" all through the company's days in Lórien, but by the time they leave she has really taken them to heart. So when she sends them a message via Gandalf early in the Two Towers, she uses "thee" and "thou" in her words to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli because now they're valued friends and allies. And--this is the big one, folks, that was already alluded to in my previous post--Éowyn starts aggressively "thou"ing Aragorn when she is begging him to take her along as he prepares to ride out of Dunharrow. She is very intentionally trying to communicate her feelings to him in her choice of pronoun--an "I wouldn't be calling you "thee" if I didn't love you" kind of thing. And he is just as intentionally using "you" in every single one of his responses in order to gently establish a boundary with her without having to state outright that he doesn't reciprocate her feelings. It's not until much later when her engagement to Faramir is announced that Aragorn finally busts out "I have wished thee joy ever since I first saw thee". Because now it is safe to acknowledge a relationship of closeness and familiarity with her without the risk that it will be misinterpreted. He absolutely wants to have that close, familiar relationship, but he saved it for when he knew she could accept it on his terms without getting hurt.

So, you know, like all things language-based...Tolkien made very purposeful decisions in his word choices down to a bonkers level of detail. I didn’t know about this pronoun thing until I was a whole ass adult, but that’s the joy of dealing with Tolkien. I still discover new things like this almost every time I re-read.

[sauronxgaladriel]

Haladriel Library

Saurondriel/Haladriel Fanfic Recommendations. Some of these stories could fit into multiple categories. If you have any more recommendations feel free to add them!

Marriage

Shadow-Bride by eye_of_a_cat

Bridesprice by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks), Irony_Rocks 

Poison & Wine by Coraleeveritas

Galadriel takes longer to discover Sauron's identity

no matter how many skies have fallen by stitchingatthecircuitboard

A man is a god in ruins by eye_of_a_cat

Queen of the Southlands by FormerlyIR

Galadriel Says Yes

The House That Fire Built by Ready_For_The_Laughing_Gas

dig up the bones (but leave the soul alone) by Wyrd_Syster

Gilded by eye_of_a_cat

And white winter, on its knees by eye_of_a_cat

The Trials of Mairon by EllieCarina

Mortal Laws by Helholden

Canon Divergence/Reimagining of S1 and onwards

I could be your king by cliffdiving

The Tides of Fate by fireheart321

In Case of Defeat, Break Glass by eastwynds

that i may rise and stand, o'erthrow me by mortaltemples

Five times Halbrand's secret got revealed by eye_of_a_cat

Across That Fine Line by MyrsineMezzo

Instruments of Salvation by Scriberated

a fair form by properhaunt

Autocorrelation by EisforEverything

The Return of the Queen by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

A Feast of Starlight by TheLightofArwyn

Supernatural Creature AU

should have known better by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo) (Witch/Demon AU)

Storm Tides & Weaving Threads by elssiie (Siren AU)

just a taste by stardustspell (Vampire AU)

Haladriel meet before TROP

Spark, Ignite, Burn by cliffdiving

our souls were made from the stars by silverwing12 (Deleted)

Necessity's Bargain by Scriberated

Though the Gods and the Years Relent, Shall Be by Helholden

determination is the cure (for longing) by downtheroadandupthehill

where the spirit meets the bones by kangaroopaws

people throw rocks at things that shine by ophidion

Hades Persephone Vibes

Beasts of the Hill and Serpents of the Den by Helholden

a dust like thine by mortaltemples

One-Shots

Unsired by shady-swan-jones (sweetleaf), sweetleaf 

the light of his eyes by eastwynds

now dark, now glittering by mortaltemples

In the Shadow of Your Heart by mzladybird

i cannot heave my heart into my mouth by fallofrain

this love is glowing in the dark by Orcas86

we could just kiss, like real people do by justatinycollector 

a millstone around my neck by mortaltemples

the nameless by bimmyou

Pregnancy/Parenthood

Light and Power by chronicallyexhaustedwriter

shining like a fiery beacon by ophidion

A Blessing of Eru by Scriberated

Smut

A Stressed Tiding by FormerlyIR (Irony_Rocks), Irony_Rocks

this love is glowing in the dark by Orcas86

Buried in Bone by Invisible_Hand

Riptide by makeshiftdraco

Perfection by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

like magnets work, only drawn to thee by audreystark

To Follow the Light by Thrill_of_hope

A Moment of Honesty by Draconic_Grace

Dream Within a Dream by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

bind yourself to me by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

Dream Within a Dream by Nenya Business (Cec_Jo)

Lady of the Seas by eye_of_a_cat

Dark/Dead Dove

all your pain will end here by poeticmemory

Land of Enchantment by EisforEverything

perle by emphemeron

Glanduin Kiss by Anonymous

[deadghosy]

SLYTHERIN BOYS MASTERLIST

(Ordered by post date/hogwarts legacy is included)

HARRY POTTER

🐍 If you missed the hoop while playing basketball

🐍 Platonic Slytherin boys with a keeper friend

🐍“I’m allergic to bullshit”

🐍 Reacting to you saying “you’re gonna pass out”

🐍 React to you saying “someone is staring”

🐍 Taking an ugly picture of them

🐍 Reacting to you clogging up their toilet

🐍 React to you being outside despite being allergic to mosquitoes

🐍 React to you passing out

🐍 Reacting to you oversleeping

🐍 Curly hair! Reader (poc friendly)

🐍 React to you giggling at your phone

🐍 Platonic Slytherin boys with adhd friend

🐍 The type of drivers they are as memes

🐍 Texting them “I think someone is following me”

🐍 When someone tries to bully you

🐍 How they react to you saying “I’m hungry”

🐍 React to you driving crazy

🐍 React to you saying “I hate you” to them

🐍 Reacting to you saying “ima kill myself”

🐍 Mattheo with a male roommate pt.1

🐍 Mattheo with a male roommate pt.2

🐍 Coquette! reader

🐍 Reacting to you being a telepathic/having telekinesis

🐍 Best friend! Mattheo headcannons pt.1//pt.2//pt.3

🐍 Modern Slytherin boys with a male figure skater

🐍 Chaos magic user! Reader

🐍 Platonic modern Slytherin boys with an insomniac male roommate

🐍 Reacting to you dancing alone

🐍 Reacting to you falling asleep during a movie

🐍 Percy Jackson! Reader w/mattheo

🐍 Reacting to m! Reader shaving

🐍 Platonic high! mattheo

🐍 High Theo x reader

🐍 You being scared awake by thunder

🐍 Slytherin boys when they miss you

🐍 Werewolf M.R, T.N, & L.B

🐍 How they would pick you up

🐍 Crybaby! Mattheo

🐍 Teddy-T.N

🐍 Vlogger! Mattheo pt.1//pt.2

🐍 Slytherin boys w/ blind!reader

🐍 July 4th with the Slytherin boys

🐍 Reacting to you falling face first

🐍 Reacting to you falling asleep to them talking

🐍 Reacting to you doing a back flip

🐍 Fanboy! Slytherins with a singer!reader

🐍 Owl!reader

🐍 French!reader getting hurt

🐍 Slytherin boys with witch beauty gf

🐍 Vampire mattheo

🐍 Vampire Tom

🐍 Reacting to their boyfriend having scars

🐍 Ghostface! Mattheo

🐍 Being mattheo’s childhood friend to lover: male version//female version

🐍 Mattheo (fem!reader) during your birthday

🐍 Slytherin boys with a black fem!reader who tall like Megan thee stallion

🐍 Reacting to you crying

🐍 Reacting to m!reader picking them up

🐍 Stalker!Mattheo

🐍“A love that burns.” Poet!mattheo

🐍 Summertime with mattheo riddle

🐍 Being best friends with Lorenzo

🐍 Beach days with Theodore Nott

🐍 Theodore Nott being your yandere best friend

🐍 Sugar daddy!Tom headcannons

🐍“All men are shit..except for you” SB reacting to you saying this

🐍 Old money!Theodore Nott headcannons + moodboard

🐍 Reacting to reader being a manipulator

🐍 Hoodie stealer-Mattheo

🐍 Toxic!theodore nott banners

HOGWARTS LEGACY

🐍 Platonic Ominis headcannons

🐍 Platonic Sebastian headcannons

🐍 Werewolf Sebastian & Ominis x reader

🐍 Sebastian & Ominis with a merfolk! Reader

🐍 Loverboy! Modern Sebastian headcannons and imagines

🐍 Platonic sliver trio headcannons

🐍 Ominis with a hufflepuff lover

🐍 Platonic brotherly headcannons with Sebastian and m!mc

🐍 Chaotic modern Sebastian headcannons

🐍 Ominis x blind!reader headcannons

🐍 Modern platonic Sebastian headcanons with m!mc

🐍 Chaotic modern sliver trio headcanons & imagines

SIBLING! READER

🐍 React to sister! Reader dating

🐍 React to their little sibling falling in their dorm

🐍 Sister!reader on her first period

🐍 Riddle brothers with a sister having a Mandy personality

🐍 Baby! Reader taking their first steps

🐍 Modern au riddle brothers with a little sibling

🐍 Reacting to eating their food

🐍 Baby sibling falling asleep on them

🐍 Reacting to sibling reader crying/bullied

🐍 Reacting to sibling reader ignore them

🐍 Draco with a twin gryffindor sister

🐍 Reacting to little sibling cling to them after holiday

[highladyofterrasen7]

On their wedding night:

Rowan: I take thee…

Aelin *whispering*: say it

Rowan: I take thee

Aelin: say it

Rowan: im not saying it

Aelin: yes you are

Rowan: *sigh* I take thee, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen, heir of Brannon, heir of mala fire-bringer, heir of fire, witch-slayer, queen of flame and shadow, fire breathing bitch queen, adarlans assassin, kings champion, formally known as Celaena Sardothien, Lillian Gordaina, Elentiya and Dianna Brackyn, also aelin of the wildfire, aelin fire-bringer, the queen who was promised, the queen who walked between worlds, gods-killer and fireheart, to be my wife.

Aelin *wiping away a tear*: it’s beautiful

[servantofthefates]

How to Summon Your Guardian

Neopagans call them guides. Catholics call them angels. Some witches call them fae. Different names in different faiths, yet the same being. The one who walks beside you.

The First Call

My elders say our guardian is close to us when we are children. Because that is when our soul contract with them is fresh and new. As we grow older, we push them away because we have forgotten they exist. They still check on us now and then, but they no longer stay. To call them back to you, do this:

Wherever you are in the world, no matter what time it is, begin by sitting still and closing your eyes. Take deep breaths until you feel isolated from the world around you. Using these exact words, or simply as a guide, speak out loud or in your mind:

“I now recall. You are the good luck that comes to me unexpectedly. You are the bad luck that saves me from worse luck. You are the whisper that tells me where to go. You are the push that shoves me to the right path. You are the caress that heals my aches. You are the pain that strengthens my resolve. You are the companion I had forgotten about. But now I recall. And back to me, I now thee call.”

Make the words true, by recalling the times when an invisible force seems to have saved you. When something hopeless suddenly worked out for you. When some suffering turned out to have been good for you. These are the acts of your guardian.

Then open your eyes.

The Vision

In the next minutes, hours or days — it is not the same for us all… wait for a response. A dream. A sensation. An encounter. Some sign that your guardian has heard your call and has returned at your side.

This will be different for everyone. But when it comes, it will be undeniable. Because whatever sign is sent will be deeply personal. A symbol that meant something to you in childhood. A song you used to love ages ago. Mine was a hypnopompic hallucination.

More often than not, it will also reveal the appearance of your guardian. A glimpse of their face. The sound of their name. A revelation of who they are. And whoever you see or hear will not be surprising to you. After all, you have known them before. Deep down, your soul still remembers.

Wait for this vision before you proceed. If it never comes, repeat The First Call. This time, more solemnly.

The Gift

Give your guardian an offering. An acknowledgment of your vision and a reaffirmation of your intention to walk with them once more.

Whatever you give, it needs to have value — material, sentimental or both. My elders say it is better to offer something you already own and hold dear, instead of acquiring something new and shiny, whose worth could be artificial.

Leave this offering somewhere special for your guardian. If you have a sacred space, an altar or a shrine… leave it there. If not, it could be a dedicated space in your bookshelf, in your dresser or on your desk.

In your own words, tell your guardian this gift is for them.

The Sharing

You want your guardian to share their life with you once more. So you too must share yours with them. This means leaving out for them a piece of something you enjoy every now and then.

Treated yourself to a bar of chocolate? Give them a piece. Put it beside their gift. Dispose of it the day after. Bought a bottle of perfume? Spray some in the air for them to smell. Received a bottle of wine? Pour some in a glass for them to taste.

Make this second nature to you. Share with your guardian your little happinesses. Not as a sacrifice, and not even as an offering. Think of it as having a friend that your eyes cannot see but your soul can sense. This is not a deal, an exchange or a spell. Just an act of decency and kindness.

The Incantation

In times when you need help, or in moments when you feel scared… make sure you have an incantation at the ready to tell your guardian you need them. If you are religious, think of it as a prayer. If you are pragmatic, think of it as dialing emergency.

The words have to be your own. The length needs to feel comfortable to you. The rhythm has to sound meaningful to your ears. Mine is based on a prayer I learned in Catholic school as a child:

“Lucifer… my inspiration, my angel, my friend… Be at my side, to light and guide, to rule and guard. Amen.”

[themotherofhorses]

maybe you think that you can hide (i can smell your scent from miles)

summary: let it be known that accepting defeat is not in aemond targaryen's nature. and with a witch now in his hands, the distance between you and him is only shortening.

pairing: (somewhat) dark!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. mentions of violence, previous smut, and child loss. male masturbation. massive obsessive tendencies on aemond's part.

notes: to quote my mom, megan thee stallion: "pressed, stressed, obsessed, i got 'em."

masterlist | series masterlist

part one | part three | part four | part five

The rain was light. From his chamber’s windows, Aemond One Eye could see the fat raindrops fogging up the glass frames and mudding the open courtyard below, where he usually trained under Ser Criston Cole. The evening weather was peaceful and calm, very soothing, but Aemond’s mind was anything but.

He had been counting the days, as it was all he could do right now.

Three months, perhaps even four, since his own lady wife vanished, leaving no trace of herself behind.

Aemond deeply regretted not having a septon marry the two of them in the eyes of the Seven that very night that he claimed her, or whisking her away to Dragonstone in secret to wed her in the customs of his ancestors. Oh, he knew that his family would object to the marriage, but he did not care. She was his, and they could not, would not, deny that. She and the babe. They both belonged to him.

And now they were gone.

It weighed him down most days- if not all, a sort of feeling so heavy in his chest that sometimes it made it hard to breathe. Were they both alright? Safe and healthy? Had she gone against his wishes and returned to her homeland? Aemond had no way of knowing the answers and that itself was most upsetting, because what if they were dead? Or injured, with the Stranger trailing after them, awaiting the chance to rob them from him?

He shakes his head at that. I will find them, he swears to himself, while a fist clenches into a tight ball, no more of these ill thoughts.

But with no more ill-mannered thoughts come those of vengeance and punishment.

How dare she, this lady wife of his, flee from him!

He promised her everything under the golden sun and more- a plentiful and comfortable life as a princess of the realm and the mother of his heirs, as well as his very own beating heart and soul and seed. What more could the foolish girl long for? Aemond stares out the window, towards the gentle hill slopes of the realm’s countryside. The land was silvery from the rain and blanketed with a thick mist. What could her homeland provide that he could not?

He sighs before turning back to his empty bed, the left side, from where she once laid, now cold and untouched, with her sweet scent slowly fading. He hates it.

Yet some of it was still left, to his many blessings, and he brings the sheets to his nose, taking in a deep whiff.

The smell makes his cock stir and harden in his pants, and he soon grows too weak in the knees and in his resolve. He tears off his trousers and lays on the bed, his cock in one hand, and her side of the sheets in the other, his mind spinning countless images of his young bride. Every thought sent more blood rushing in between his legs, memories of her pretty body and all the marks and bruises her skin wore, her cries and whimpers, and the way her tearful eyes bore into his.

After that night, he took her more and more, in varying positions. Some new, others old. Sometimes he mounted her from behind, shoving her face down into the pillows to muffle her loud moans and screams as her hips slapped against his, and while that was pleasant, he soon realized he did not care for such. Aemond liked seeing her beautiful face twisted in pleasure and the way her breasts bounced with every thrust, and how she easily flustered whenever he leant to whisper a string of praises in her ear.

He also liked when she sat on her knees with his cock in her mouth, her tongue working wonders as she stared up at him as if he was a god and she one of those whores that belonged to the Street of Silk. But he never dared mutter those kind of words aloud, fore his lady wife was so much prettier than them damned wenches, too sweet and innocent and pure, and wholly his.

And not long after that, she began to glow, the sort that came only with motherhood.

He loved it and felt nothing but immense pride.  

Was she still glowing, and swelling with his child? Aemond was certain she was, and he could only imagine the sight, one most beautiful to man. He remembered his mother’s pregnancy with his younger brother- how her feet constantly ached, and all the times she would ask Ser Cole to fan her, or switch gowns because she grew too uncomfortable and moody.

Was it the same for his wife? Were her little feet hurting as well?

The thought of such makes him bite down hard on his bottom lip, trying his best to swallow his own grunts and moan, and with a whine so unlike him, the head of his cock weeps and spills more of his seed, down his hand and onto his thighs.

What a waste, he thinks emptily, while eyeing the mess he had made, all this belongs to her, yet the foolish girl refused to see it.  

Heaving out yet another heavy sigh, he reaches for the rag that sits to his side. What more could be done? Nothing. Foolish, foolish little girl, he clicks his tongue, all this because of you. He then calls for the maid, requesting for her to draw him a bath.

Tonight, he will dream of his lady wife and their little babe and the life they should be sharing at this very moment. He will ponder over names and if the child will favor her looks or his, and how he will need to meet with the royal seamstress for a layette. And as he sinks himself into the scalding hot waters of the bathtub, he smiles in contentment.

One-eyed Aemond Targaryen will have his wife, and his child too, by any means necessary. 

It was after he sacked Harrenhal that Aemond finds the opportunity he had been waiting for.

The sixth month was nearing with still no sign of his little wife, though the princeling did not dare to consider admitting defeat. There was much pent-up frustration and fury within him, festering from all the damned months he faced of constant loneliness and dryness, and the riverlands faced the brute of it, most notably House Strong. In the ward of Harrenhal, at the hands and command of Prince Aemond, no Strong was spared- neither trueborn nor bastard, all but Alys Rivers.

He had previously heard that the rivers woman was an alleged woods witch, though she dabbled in other branches of the craft. Blood magic too, several little birds say as well.

It gives him an idea.

So he demands two of his knightsmen to bring to him the wet nurse, dark-haired and twice his age. When she stands in front of him, dressed in a soft emerald gown and with her bodice sullied wet from her breast milk, he does not expect for her to bat her black eyelashes and promise to warm his bed if he grants her protection.

“I can be of great use to you,” she adds, in tones thick with seduction.

But Aemond is quick to unsheathe his sword and hold it at her throat. “It should be known that I carry no love for your kind, witch, and that I dare not touch another woman who is not my wife,” he seethes, pressing the blade harder against her skin, “-either you pledge to help me find her, or I will sever your tongue. Perhaps I’ll send it to the whore of my eldest sister as a gift, seeing how she loved you Strongs so much.”

In the back stands Ser Criston Cole, biting his own tongue from saying anything. He may have been the second son of Viserys Targaryen, but Prince Aemond was the knight’s through and through.

The woman nods, and Aemond pulls back his sword. In his mind, he is giddy with excitement at the thought of finally having his dear wife back in his arms, where she belongs.

And the babe, he can hardly wait to see him too.

Alys wipes away the tiny welts of blood budding along her neckline, grimacing. She recognizes the blade as Valyrian-steel, with an edge that could have cut her head clean off. It is probably spell-forged too, she thinks. “My time and craft come with a price, Prince Aemond,” she says, steeling her voice to hide the fact that she is licking her wounds. “I expect to be paid in return.”

“Yes, I know,” Aemond hums, while sliding his sword back into its sheathe. “You will keep your life, and still have the chance for more babes to feed from your chest.”

He debates whether to bring her back to King’s Landing, in case his own children need a wet nurse, but the thought is off-putting, and he wishes not to offend his wife when she returns. Instead, he turns back to study the rivers woman. “My wife is missing,” he says, “and I wish to find her and bring her home.”

Alys frowns. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Six months ago, in our room. She disappeared the next morning, leaving nothing behind.” Aemond sighs. “She is with child,” he says ruefully, “and I worry every day." He rubs at his temple, shaking his head. "This is her first babe, and mine as well. I have made her into a new mother with the promise to remain by her side, but now she is gone, and I haven’t the slightest clue where she might be.” The pain returns again, followed by anger and frustration, as well as the deep regret for not doing things differently.

His words give Alys a chill. She always had a soft spot for children and the young maidens that found motherhood too soon in their lives. Maybe because that was her once, so many moons ago, losing child after child well before their lives began.

She mourned so many dead babes that the thought of another girl going through the same felt sinful.

Finding sudden courage, Alys takes Aemond’s hand in hers. “Let me help you, Prince Aemond,” she tells him, all with the gentlest smile. “A father should be with his children, and a wife with her husband.”

His violet eye finds her green ones, and she catches the smallest glimmer of hope flickering within. “Thank you.”

“Blood magic would perhaps be the best way to find your wife, my prince.”

Aemond tilts his head at Alys. “How so?” The Faith of the Seven went against magic, and harbors little love or respect towards those who practice it, and he grew up with similar sentiments. But at this point, he is too desperate to care. All he wants is her back.

May the Father and the Crone forgive him in his later years, though he has a feeling that the Mother might be rather sympathetic and understanding towards his situation.

“It is a strong and powerful craft,” Alys explains, “capable of things beyond our own understandings. This sort of magic- it has the power to deliver life and then steal it away. ”

He hums, nodding along. “And how would it work?”

Alys pauses, unsure of how to say her next words. “It would require the blood of your wife, my prince,” she says, carefully, “even just the tiniest droplet would work well. I could call upon my own gods to find her. If she pricked her finger on a needle or scraped her knee, as long as it drew fresh blood, there is no use in her hiding.” But her head then drops, and her shoulders slump too, “Yet seeing how she has been gone for so long, I do not know how it could be done, or what else to do in that matter.”

Aemond remains quiet from where he sits by the room’s hearth. He brushes his knuckles against his lips as he thinks, and thinks, and thinks some more. “Would dry blood work?”

Alys blinks. “Well, maybe?” Her mouths flatten in a line as she ponders over the idea, trying to remember if her old readings ever mentioned anything about dried blood and rituals. “I suppose so, my prince,” she replies with, fiddling with her long and thin fingers, “Blood is blood, regardless of time.”

At that, he leaves the room, only to return several minutes later carrying a single bedsheet, cream in color. Alys watches as he drapes it over the chair he had sat at, making sure to smooth out any wrinkles. When he is done, he calls for the witch to join his side, and when she stands next to him, he gestures to a bloodstain at the center, dried and a bit crusty but still obvious.

“My wife’s blood,” he says, smirking, “from the night I took her maidenhood and gave her our son.”

Alys glances at him, and her lips pull back into a smirk too. “Perfect.”

tag list: @minttea07 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @smolnuggie911 @marahisthebest @bibli0thecary @whatsonthemirror @bellaisasleep @witchy-jadda @princeaemond1eye @mefools @xcharlottemikaelsonx @browngirl101

(if I did not tag you, it’s because it did not let me! im sorry, little love, the tumblr gods hate me today.)

[vexwerewolf]

To His Granite Lordship Ferdinand-Cannamos (@ktbofficial) of the House of Stone,

Cousin, I hope this missive finds you well.

I implore your forgiveness that I did not convey proper congratulations on your appointment to the position of official Karrakin representative to the omninet in person. I have been travelling to Throne Karrakis these past few months, and – as is usual – uncle Hyderad (Unshakeable Be His Foundation, Unyielding Be His Resolve, etc. etc. etc.) has made the entire thing difficult for me.

I must confess, cousin, that I feel your behaviour falls short of the lofty responsibilities such a grand and noble station entails. I must again beg your forgiveness for critiquing you in a public letter this way, but as uncle always told me – at length, with glee, and often (as you may recall) in front of hundreds of dinner guests – that a lesson attached to a public humiliation is a lesson that will be remembered the rest of a man’s life.

Remember, upon your shoulders rests the unenviable duty of presenting the face of the Karrakin to the greater galaxy, and it is by your words that all of us – from the proudest Knight Vitreous of Ispahsalar to the most desperate refugee of Bo – shall be judged. When the citizens of Union listen for the Baronies, they will hear your words. Against the honeyed words of Harrison’s Steward Council and the poison that hides beneath their sweetness, you are our bulwark. Yet you are stubborn, brusque, contemptuous, intolerant. You are quick to accuse and slow to admit fault.  Since you will brook no critique from outsiders, it must fall to a fellow noble of your House to deliver it.

I know that like many of our House, you are proud. You are unyielding, like the Stone from which we take our namesake. We of Stone have some right to be proud, no doubt, for who else in history could stand against Tyran of Delamar? Laugh in the face of his threats? Fight him to a standstill? So too are you proud of the Baronies in their totality. Again, there is no error in that, for who, truly, could look at what we have achieved and yet not feel some small satisfaction?

But stone is also inflexible, and beyond any other flaw that individual rulers or Houses have laboured under, inflexibility has been the creeping sickness that has doomed us time and again. Was it not inflexibility that led us to underestimate the Armory’s new technology? Was it not inflexibility that lost us Rosegift, Underthrone, Stone Harbor and Odeland? Was it not inflexibility that made us treat those of the Ludran Underground like slaves rather than siblings?

The Baronies are more than the Hagiographs, and the Hagiographs are not free from sin. Was it not the Hagiographs that destroyed the Pilgrim, throwing us into a war with Union for which we were totally unprepared? Was it not the Hagiographs that pushed us to war with Harrison Armory, then lost us a generation of nobles – and the Stonelord themself? And if we may share in the bounty of Ludra at its height, how can the House of Stone elude responsibility for the abuses that led to the uprising of the Ungratefuls? Yes, it was House Ludra that failed them, but they were House of Stone too, and reducing them did not erase our responsibility.

I shall leave you with a reminder of our culture’s classics. Do you remember the words of the playwright Montague-Adellian, in “The Witch of Magritte?”

Ennio-Altia: By what strange Virtue conjurest thou, that in thy family’s victories thou exalt, yet for their defeats shed not a single tear?

Yond-Cassius: Fie, slanderer, keep thy tongue still, lest I still it for thee.

Ennio-Altia: Wilt thou for plaudits beg when the sun shines, yet curse the Magus when it rains?

Strength in Stone,

Lord Atreyu-Cannamos of the House of Stone

P.S. (For those beyond the boundaries of our Baronies, or those within whom have not had the luxury of studying theatre, Adellian was a playwright of the House of Glass famed mostly for his critique of other Houses. The Witch of Magritte was a lampoon of the House of Stone, which he cleverly disguised by casting its heroes as scions of Stone and its villains as scions of Glass. His intent was that the House of Stone could not ban it without insulting themselves. Of course, we banned it anyway, which of course only made the play more popular, and proved his point about our House’s choleric temperament.)

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: The promise of snow in the shadow of a falling curtain. 2172 words.

Note: The scenes in this chapter starring Ev were co-written by her IRL counterpart @vintagehellfire.

1986

November came with a cold that promised snow soon. Still, the coven continued to build and grow. While magic shimmered outward, you, Eddie, and Ev spent hours poring over grimoires and speaking with the Witches Who Came Before. If you were going to empower Eddie with some sort of supernatural ability to see the worst in people, the work had to be sound.

Ev was the natural choice to help. She worked close to death and had an affinity for darkness and transformation. It felt so good and right to be practicing witchcraft with a sister again.

“Are we still thinking touch is the best trigger?” Ev posed.

“It has to be,” Eddie answered. “This cannot go wrong. We cannot be wrong.”

You slid off the armchair and kneeled in front of where Eddie was seated on the floor, piles of books and parchment around him. “You will always have the final say. You will always be able to ignore all this.”

So as not to curse Eddie with the sight 24/7, it was decided a charmed object would suffice.

“We could use a necklace?”

“What about one of his rings,” Ev suggested, pointing to the cross ring already adorning Eddie’s hand. “We could let it charge in potion,”

“Under the next full moon,”

“Yes,” Ev nodded at you.

“Okay, so now we need the potion… Black-eyed Susan for justice and gladiolus for moral integrity and a strong sense of character,”

“Horehound for revealing the truth,”

“You have horehound? Where did you get it?” you asked her.

“I cultivated it before we came to America. I’ve had some stashed since then,”

“That’s convenient… Okay, next… Splinted fir tree wood, also for truth, but determination and hope for the future too,” you said.

“I think this may need to be a bit viler. Something more substantial too,”

“I take it you have an idea for that?”

Ev looked from you to Eddie. He grinned as he saw the wicked smile spread across her face.

“Well… In my line of work, I have access to certain things others may not…”

You blinked hard at her. “You mean… dead bodies?”

“Yes,”

“What have you done?” you asked her seriously.

“Nothing a few simple cloaking spells and glamours can’t hide,” Ev said with a casual shrug. She smiled. “If we want this magic to work, we need offerings. I can offer the ground bones of evil men,”

“Of course you can,”

“You’re not judging me, are you?” Ev teased.

“No. Nobody is. But everyone judged me for what I did, but you’ve been skulking around with dead men’s bones and a wolf boyfriend for ages.”

She laughed. “Whatever. The point is, using the bones will call a stronger power. We need to be careful,”

“We will,” Eddie said.

“And we can add our blood. Offering witch blood will prove that our magic walks in the light. That we seek to do good,” you said.

Eddie and Ev nodded.

Next was workshopping the spell.

“By the bones and branches, I call to thee. Reveal the evil that lay beneath?” Ev proposed.

“Oh, okay, I like that. Let me write this down.”

When wordsmithing and potion brewing were done, you stored all the work away. The next full moon was on the sixteenth, so casting would be postponed until then.

You walked Ev back to her house, listening as she told you about how she met her wolf.

“It was organic. The first thing we talked about was music. He loves The Misfits. I love The Misfits. Danzig over Graves. Rollins era Black Flag. Even when we disagreed we agreed. Like about when our Iron Maiden cut-off is,”

“You know, Eddie is really getting into that kind of music. Maybe they would actually get along,”

“Well… Eddie’s mortal enemy was meant to be you, so I guess next in line might be exempt too,”

“Double date?”

Ev laughed. “Double date.”

…

Finding Max Mayfield and healing her had not left your mind since the Halloween party. When you set off on your mission, you left Eddie behind. He didn’t like that you were out beyond the limits of Hawkins alone, but he understood why it had to be that way.

When the sun went down, Eddie walked to Kelsey’s house. She welcomed him in and let him sit while she pottered around, doing things that seemed very sweet and domestic, even if Eddie wasn’t sure what the purpose was.

“Can I ask you something about the coven?”

“Of course,” she answered him.

“However… you cannot tell anyone that I asked.”

Kelsey turned and looked at Eddie. She narrowed her eyes. “Anyone?” Even her?

Eddie nodded. “Anyone,” he repeated. Even you. 

…

On the night of November the sixteenth, you, Ev, and Eddie took all you’d need through the woods and out the other side. Upon a small rise, you blended the Black-eyed Susan and gladiolus flowers with horehound and fir in a bowl made from oak. Ev sprinkled in her dead man bone ash.

“Blood,” you said, holding your hand out to Eddie.

Gently, he took it, biting just below your thumb. You felt his tongue swipe over the puncture, tasting you just a little before letting you go. As you let the blood drip into the potion, you glanced up at Ev, her pupils blown.

“Rude not to ask me to join in,” she quipped.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Ev,” Eddie replied just as quick.

“Gross. Stop it. Both of you… Eddie, give me your ring.”

You dropped Eddie’s ring into the bowl and nodded to them. Standing in a circle, holding hands, you all recited the spell. Eddie knew that his contribution to the incantation may not add any magical strength, he felt that it was the right thing to do.

“From Veritas, from Aletheia,

To Themis and her scale.

By bones and branches,

Reveal evil, let light prevail.

Under full moon,

By blood of coven,

Give this immortal power,

To morality govern.”

The wind picked up, the cold seeping in. You dropped hands and watched as the potion began to move, almost like it was alive. A bowl of sentient sludge. Writhing eels.

“What now?” Eddie asked.

“We leave it here. In the morning, the bowl will be empty save for the ring. It will be charmed, and you will have the sight,” you answered. You looked to Ev, she nodded.

“May I escort you ladies back home then, before the cold kills you?”

You let Eddie hook an arm through yours.

Ev hesitated. “I’ve actually got some other plans… I’ll see you tomorrow…”

“Plans on a full moon?” you teased.

Ev pulled a face and set off back into the woods in the direction opposite to the coven.

When you and Eddie got home, you disappeared into the apothecary. After making you tea and lighting the candles that helped you sleep, Eddie came searching for you.

“What more is there to do on this night?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

You turned to him. You loved him all of the time. You loved him when his eyes were wild and his lips stained with blood. You loved him when he was charming and wooing your coven sisters. You loved him when he was washing dishes and engaged in his on-going battle with figuring out the right settings on the iron. But like that, sweatpants low on his hips, scars and history on display… Hair with knotted curls and messy bangs… Doe eyes and gentle movements… You loved him most.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered back, opening his arms in invitation.

You took a jar, the object of your search, and went to him. He held you safe while you explained.

“We never finished the spell. Your spell.”

Eddie thought back to the black hellebore and apple. How the night had melted into adoration and sex. How, come morning, Forest Hills Trailer Park suddenly didn’t seem like the type of place to cast a spell about the future. You had both decided to save it for when it felt right.

Eddie held the jar of powder and, with a blanket wrapped around you, you followed him outside. Sitting side by side on the front steps of the house grown with love and magic, you said nothing.

The night was quiet and bright, the moon gloriously round and high. Hawkins was peaceful and the coven were dreaming of new beginnings.

Eddie twisted the lid off the jar and poured half the dust into his palm. He closed his fist around it. He looked as if he were making a wish. It was a brief moment, then he uncurled his fingers and blew the dust into the fall air.

“Your turn.”

He tipped the rest of the dust into your hand and you copied what he had done. You watched the dust swirl in the breeze, twinkling with an unnatural glint.

“Thank you for the spell,” you said, your sentence punctuated with a yawn.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

…

Three things happened at the same time that night, on the eve of December. Max Mayfield returned to Hawkins, healed and full of questions for her friends. She vaguely remembered a visitor. Vaguely remembered a miracle. Vaguely remembered threatening her mother if she didn’t let her return to the small shitty town. She was different. Made both stronger and softer by what she’d been through. There was something else too, something not even Lucas could put his finger on.

It would take years for the magic to bloom in Max. When it did, your coven would be waiting.

A far more somber event was taking place just down the way from you. Steve Harrington’s ghost had begun to fade. Mel noticed it before he did. He was hardly there at all now. “This is a good thing,” she told him, but her sad eyes made him ache.

“I don’t want to go,”

“You’re meant to. There is more out there for you now,”

“But what about you?” he asked. Death had not changed Steve. He thought of others first.

She couldn’t put it into words. The feeling of being loved by Steve. The feeling of a soul ignoring death and instead, letting themselves be pulled to her.

As Steve moved on, a definitive moment, Mel crawled into bed and cried. She’d let herself grieve and she’d do it alone. Of course, you would notice her sorrow. You’d find her in the darkness and pull her back to the light of the coven. But not then. Not on that cold night.

In your house, you tried to distract yourself from Eddie’s absence by reading, then spell writing, and finally – television. MTV had a feature of new films being released soon. You made note of The Lost Boys, deciding it would be good for a cinema date night. Eventually, you retired to bed and waited up for Eddie. He’d be home from Chicago soon.

Eddie could smell it on them. Hear it in the spitting syllables of their words. And now, graced with his charmed ring, he could see their sins too.

One touch and he saw the entire span of human guilt. Not keeping off the grass. Gum stuck under desks. Fake IDs. White lies about going to the post office but actually going to eat a cheeseburger in peace. Unpaid fines, unreturned library books. A little weed in the back pocket. Teenage pranks, stolen stop signs, the accidents they caused. Running red lights. Running away from a crime scene. Running away from everything.

It was almost sweet, Eddie thought, what made some people feel shame.

Almost.

Unlicensed firearms. Running cons on elderly people. Animal cruelty. Methamphetamine cooking in a back shed. Dosages of medication that were not what the doctor prescribed. Setting fires. Hidden disks of child exploitation material. Manifestos by white men who knew how to build a bomb. Battery. Trafficking. Home invasion. Aggravated assault occasioning bodily harm. Sexual assault. Assault resulting in death.

It was easier than ever finding someone to drain. Eddie followed him out of a bar and towards the L. In a blur nobody would remember, the man was pulled into the darkness. As it happened, as the shock turned to paralysing fear, your skin broke out in goosebumps. All the way in Hawkins, you watched the hairs on your arms stand up straight.

Eddie’s teeth punctured skin and you yelped, a stab of pain coming from somewhere in you. Doubling over, you fought to breathe.

The man was tense, then limp, then dead.

Forcing deep gulps of air in, then out, you were more worried when the pain suddenly dissolved. Slowly, you got to your feet and blinked tears from your eyes.

If Eddie had felt your suffering, he’d mistaken it as the man’s.

Max’s homecoming, Steve’s final goodbye, and Eddie’s justice balanced by the price you’d always pay. Events that were determined long ago. Fated to coincidence. And would echo through time forever more.

End note: Shout out to @neonghostlights for helping to brainstorm types of sins.

THIS IS THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER. Yep. Only one more chapter after this and it is not quite finished. So, any last requests or ideas need to be sent to me ASAP if you wanna find yourself in the story.

The Grimoire and timeline are updated. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, especially now in the final hour.

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03  @pastel-pillows @moviefreak1205

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

[skylaryozora]

Come little children, I'll take thee away

Into a land of enchantment

Come little children, the time's come to play

Here in my garden of shadows

Happy Halloween y'all!

This song (I love it so much btw) matches perfectly with her power and personality, I can imagine our cunning witch actually luring oblivious children to a dark garden or any other spooky place <3

[regretisstoredintheme]

Request! Rise Donnie x reader that is smarter than him and teases him about it and he's furious about having a crush on them being 100% oblivious that reader already knows and feels the same way. From Donnie's POV. PLEASE and thank you!

I’ve been dreaming of a— HMMMMMM????

Request, you say????

“Anonymous asked: Request! Rise Donnie x reader that is smarter than him and teases him about it and he's furious about having a crush on them being 100% oblivious that reader already knows and feels the same way. From Donnie's POV. PLEASE and thank you!” 

A/N: unfortunately, I can’t see any way that this would go well... If any writer wants to take this prompt and make a fluff version of this, have at thee! But I can only imagine this going one way….

-

Smarter. (A Oneshot) - Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Witch Town & Mind Meld, angst, hurt no comfort, Y/n misreads his feelings, Donnie is a protective father. 

-

The science guy. 

That was me.

I “dealt” with things. The “Bill Nye” comments, the teasing, the bantering, the loneliness, the hours of work into every, single, little project I made. I’ve hacked into every camera in NYC. I’ve created sentient machines, reprogrammed a useless movie vehicle to be the best in the world, I would say. Made bombs, robbed and reverse robbed banks, created rockets, bombs, ingenious battle devices, tech-bo, for christs sake! And so! Many! More! But… 

Then, there was you.

Perfect, in absolutely every way. Mystic, science, physics, hell — you even beat me in banter, leaving me speechless nearly every time. And you rubbed it in my face. You were the Hamilton to my Aaron Burr. It didn’t help that you checked off all my boxes, Cute and mean, that was my type, and I wanted to bond with you, a fellow scientist who I didn’t have to dumb down my talk for, someone I could be myself around! but you… you made yourself impossible to tolerate. I admit I didn’t take it well, when I realized…

You were everything I wanted to be. 

“Awww, is this Shelldon?” You scratched behind one of his many ears, making him trill in delight. “Ahhahawww thanks, dude! Yeah that’a me.” He responded, leaning into your touch. “He’s cute! What coolant do you take, buddy?” You asked, talking down to him like a child, the exact way Sheldon had always reprimanded me for. 

“Donnie’s experimenting with different types,” Yes I am, “He’s trying Castrol Radicool Premix right now, it’s been doing good so far.” Thank you. 

As expected, you inhale sharply through your teeth, making my attention pique from what I was trying to distract myself with. “Donnie really doesn’t take care of you, huh?”

…

What?

Me? 

I don’t take care of Shelldon?

“Uhhh… I don’t know if that’s—“ I can’t bring myself to let him finish, already standing from my gaming chair. I turned on my heel, fury in my eyes as I rolled the seat out of the way, “Excuse me?”

You chuckled, and felt my blood boil, “Awh, Donnie, you’re blushing! Embarrassed?” 

“Infuriated.” I answered. 

“Oh come off it, I simply think you should try Ethylene Glycol, it would be so much better for winter.” I grit my teeth, every word from your sicky-sweet voice made my skin crawl. I would have attacked you right then and there if I didn’t know you had better tech. Hah, better tech… better than me? ME of all people? No. 

I furrow my brows, “That was next on my list..” I seethe, feeling my nerves spike as you poked my shoulder. I hated when you did that, it made my face go red and my palms sweat. Curse this irony, it was like smiling at a joke from a person you’re mad at. It’s frustrating, but involuntary. 

“C’mon, we both know you’re not really mad, you’re just frustrated cuz you like me. Look at that blushing nose~!” I felt my voice catch in my throat as you leaned into my face, wanting nothing more than to push you away already. My body was experiencing a freeze response, and I couldn’t even bring myself to push you, it was as if my bones were made of high-grade titanium, the same as my tech. 

I clenched my fists, feeling a bit of my confidence return as Shelldon flew to my side. “I thought I was supposed to be the narcissist…” I hissed, feeling my face redden with anger. I’ve never hated anyone more. 

Your face turns confused, but I can’t bring myself to realize you might have misunderstood my feelings, “You think you’re so great, don’t you?” Shelldon cowers, I know he hates when I raise my voice, so I lower to a furious whisper, “You think you can just waltz into my lab, my life, and tell me how to run things?” My nails dig into my palm, I resist the urge to threaten you, knowing your body would never be found beneath my hands. 

“You think you’re the science guy, don’t you? Think you can correct everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve and just take my place!?” Make me worthless? Be the purple sibling? What next, re-wiring my systems? Taking scraps and making a dark matter accelerator? Drawing on eyebrows to a cheap version of my bandana!?

Your eyebrows knit, “woah, woah, Dondon, I didn’t mean—“ “Don’t fucking call me that!!” I seethe, feeling tears prick at my eyes, I hate how emotional I am when I’m angry, but I’m too deep in now. Some weak, soft shelled part of my heart is telling me to apologize, but I’ve always, always acted with my head. It’s telling me you’re a threat. And you are… aren’t you? 

“I’m not a child!” I can feel my heartbeat, eyes wide and I take a deep breath to lower my voice. “And Y’know what, I think I finally found something I’m better at.” I fold my arms, watching a frown finally form on your face. 

“Really?” You glared, matching my stiff body language.

“Yeah.” I huff, “Reading the room.” 

“You? Read a room?” You scoffed, seeming just as offended, but I didn’t mind. “Ever think maybe, I did all these things — not to take your place, but to impress you?” 

“Oh, you made an impression. Alright.” You… wanted to impress me? I turned my back to you, a small voice telling me that maybe, just maybe, I.. wasn’t acting with my head.. “A bad one.” Why am I so defensive? Why did all this get to me? Shelldon was uncomfortable, I was uncomfortable, hell, I bet my brothers could hear this! They’re probably uncomfortable! why couldn’t I be the bigger turtle and just move on?

“Just… leave..” I waved at the air, sinking into my seat with a little regret. Why was it, that around you, I was never enough? That I was just the small, weak soft shell who couldn’t play rough with his brothers? Who broke his glasses? Who practically wore a pillowcase for protection?

Why couldn’t I be cool for you? Why was I talked down to? I’ve accomplished so many things, why is it that nobody can ever look at me in awe!? Why am I always admiring someone else, and never being admired?

“…” the tension in the room began to dissipate, and I listened with baited breath as you closed the curtain behind you. I let out the sigh, and I hear Shelldon round the corner, landing his head on mine, “Well, that could’ve gone better…” he muttered, and I feel something strange as I look down at my workbench— grief? Guilt? Whatever it is, it stuck, no matter how badly I didn’t want to admit it.

“Yeah..” I mutter, twirling my screwdriver, “Yeah it could’ve.” 

—

A/N: I feel like this might be a lil OOC, am I the only one who gets that vibe?? Idk I’m not really feeling this one, lmk what you guys think 😭 I guarantee another writer could best me at this prompt, and I offer it up to anyone interested! Hope this was ok, anon, really hope I didn’t wreck your day.  —

[linda-ravstar]

A conversation between Ranni the Witch and Saint Trina. Pre DLC, canon-ish timeline. Only dialogue.

“Dost thou forgive me, then?”

“No.”

“Why is he not here to talk to me if he is so interested?”

“He knows not that I am here… Yet.”

"Oh?"

“Wilt thou do what I ask?”

“What is there for me? Why would I want to help him?”

“Thou owest him.”

“Do I…?”

“Thou dost. Hast thou forgotten?”

“Art thou collecting?”

“No, I am asking.”

“Then…?”

“I thought the Lunar Princess of Caria kept her word.”

“Hm. Thou art just like him. Mayhap less subtle.”

“… And it could help thee.”

“How so?”

“If thou dost what I asked… mayhap the one to whom thou givest my gift shall help thee. They shall be chosen. They shall be strong. They shan’t give up. They could be useful to thy efforts.”

“And why would Miq… Why wouldst thou, Saint of Dreams, want to help me, the one thou dost not forgive?”

“I desire not to help thee. I wish to aid him. I wish to stop him.”

“And only a chosen Tarnished wouldst do it? The one called to be Elden Lord?”

“The one with the strength to be Elden Lord.”

“A Tarnished lord is said to be fated to kill us all. Well, those of us who can be killed.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps that shall happen.”

“So thou wishest to die.”

“There are worse things.”

“… Thou dost look tired. Is… Is he alright?”

“He is… not.”

“Ha. Hath he finally realized that any change cannot happen in this world by only hurting himself? Sacrifices must be made. No path is clean. No hands shall be free of blood and tears."

“Like thine?”

“Yes, like mine. I do not deny it.”

“… If it were so simple as to hurt himself, or die, or suffer… This world would have already changed, princess. If the peace we seek could be bought with only our blood, thou wouldst have thy cup overflowing with it long ago. But as thou saidst, it’s not so simple.”

“Mine age shall be different. No more chains of gold around these lands. No more fingers crawling in the fates of us all. No more sons or daughters called to bear the sins of their mother.”

“… Princess.”

“Hmm?”

“If thou art victorious, someday… In thy new world… Wilt thou remember Malenia? … Godwyn?”

“Not everything can be undone. There are forces that are part of this world, only emboldened by death bound and the stagnation of life. I shall give them the freedom from the gold, the cold guidance of the dark moon. I shall keep mine own memories, mine sins and loves. But what it is cannot cease to be.”

“… I understand.”

“…”

“He would have supported thee, thou knowest?”

“Miquella?”

“He would have knelt before thee and wished to see thy age of stars embrace this world. We would have our corner of the world, our small kingdom of downtrodden and outcasts. He would have been happy to see thee reign and spend his life amidst inventions and wonders. Even if his curse would have remained. …But only if thou couldst have saved those he loved.”

“I shall mourn both of your deaths. I fear… I fear thou wilt lose more than thy lives in this misted path. Marika did.”

“Perhaps. Canst thou blame us?”

“I know not.”

“Please think of my ask.”

“I shall. Go in peace. Tell Miquella… if thou canst… that I always admired his heart. If anyone could have done it, ‘twas him. And if anyone can save him, I’m sure ‘tis thee. ...Give my love to noble Torrent as well. His path will surely be a long one before sweeter rasins can reach his nose."

“I shall share thy blessing with him. And... I shall take thy words within mine heart, Lady Ranni. I hope thou findest peace in thy dreams. I hope thou findest solace from thy sins.... Thou mayest wake up now.”

“Goodbye, Trina.”

“Goodbye… sister.”

... Or, "Why would Ranni have the Spirit Calling Bell".

[silverthornwitchery]

Queen of Witches, Queen of All,

Listen now and hear my call,

Diana-Hecate, Trivia divine,

Mother of Witches, Mistress of time,

I come to thee now, in reverence and honor,

Take me in as one of your daughters.

Let me be as Aradia, as Circe, a child of thee,

Let me come into my own being.

Free me, unleash me, unbind me,

Let thy power flow into my being.

Diana-Hecate, Moonlit, Torchbearing Queen,

I love and worship you, with my heart's beating.

[merp-blerp]

EVEN MORE Things about Cinderella's Castle I'm excited about already as a big Cinderella fan

Part One, Part Two (This), Part Three

I did this once, guess I'm excited enough to do it again!

The songs sound wonderful! Can't wait to hear what they sound like with the cast and I can't wait to see what Lauren does with the choreo! NPMD blew me away and I can't wait to see how this show will kill me. "Cursed Crazy", "Step On Your Grave", "Ash To Ash", and "Ever After" are my favorite demos so far.

I think it's so cool that "Step On Your Grave" is such an angry song. I know it takes place while Ella's cooking her step-family dinner, but it would be really interesting if a reprise took place after Ella learns she can't go to the ball (that is if the story works the same way as usual). Normally, if Cinderella gets a song during this moment, it's very mournful, like say "In My Own Little Corner (Reprise)" from 1997 Cinderella. And that's great! But giving Ella a song like that, but with a "No Good Deed" from Wicked vibe would be so original and new as far as I'm aware! Cinderella has every right to be sad at her abusive situation, but also every right to be angry! Imagine she wants to follow them to the ball not to have a good night like usual but to kill her step-family on the way or at the ball somehow. Whether a rendition of "Step On Your Grave" is at a moment like this in the show or not, Ella deserves a song like that I think and I'm glad she's got one.

"Step On Your Grave" has a lot of allusions to Ella once being a princess in the making before the step-family or something came along, and Ella mentions her father having a sword, so I wonder if the Ashmores are fallen royalty or had royal tie-ins of some kind. Like maybe Ella was arranged to wed a prince or something.

"Ever After" has some elements of grief and that's so special I think. Cinderella often loses someone or something under her step-family, like her family or her former life, but the grief aspect isn't brought up too much very often in adaptations, the most significant time I can think of it being brought up is in 1997 Cinderella. It'd be nice to include that element in this show. I can't help but wonder if Ella's father's death was accidental in this show. "Ever After" kind of reminds me a bit of "Cool As I Think I Am" from NPMD sound-wise; some smart musical person should mash them up once "Ever After" is released. Ella also might be kinda regicidal in this song too, so... POOR GIRL'S JUST SO CONTEMPLATIVE!

I genuinely doubt "Trappings of Starlight" has much to do with the Starlight Theather from Hatchetfield, but to add to that craziness, the "Uh-oh-oh-oh," reminds me of the vocalizing from "Axe Man" from NT2. And "Should we shun her?" in "Castle On A Hill" reminds me of "Should we kill him?" in "The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals". I don't think it means anything though. It seems pretty clear that The Lands That Are and Hatchetfield aren't going to have much overlap.

"Ash To Ash" seemingly referencing Ella's mom! I get this feeling that Ella's mom was a witch or enchantress of some kind and that's why she was burned. And it sounds like the Fairy Queen and Ella are maybe plotting revenge on someone or a system, maybe? And I wonder what QF means by saying Ella is "Terrible as I". Maybe she means terrible as in great or fearsome, like, say, "Oz the great and terrible" or something. And the lyric, "I shall wrap thee in these cinders, Ell" makes me wonder if her dress will be made with starlight + the cinders on her body—what a wicked idea! I love how far the Langs took the whole cinders and ash thing. With Ella's surname being Ashmore and this being a duet with the Fairy Queen, I'm very curious about the title and if there's a double meaning; are Ella and the Fairy Queen related in some way? This retelling will be so good!

In the subtitles for "Ash To Ash" in the 4/13 livestream, I assumed "Q+C" was supposed to be "Queen (Fairy) + Cinderella", but listening to the song a second time, it sounds like C's lines overlap Ella's very slightly, which would make it hard for one person (Bryce) to sing alone. So C is likely not Ella in that song. Maybe it's Crumb? Some in the chat said it probably just meant chorus, so we'll see eventually.

All the little motifs that exist already! Like "Will it Ever After Happily?" in "Castle On A Hill" and "Ever After". Or the talk of Ella painting in both "Ever After" and "Last For Ever". "Ever After" has so many! AAAHHH!

The Lyrics in "Castle On A Hill" being "A queen and her vanity, a beast and his agony" have me Thinking™. Are the prince's parents Beauty and the Beast? Is the prince a beast? And there's also the Excalibur callback??? Since Nick said there would be no other fairytales involved in this story, it might just be more of a reference than literal, but it's still cool.

The lyrics to "Cursed Crazy" make me wonder if the citizens blame Ella for the Ashmore family's demise for some reason. The idea of Cinderella not even being able to find potential solace in the townsfolk is so sad! There's so much to think about!

Dying to know what "'Cause my love will be fierce, and your love will be missed," in "Trappings Of Starlight" will mean. It's such an intriguing line. As well as who is the character singing the song. We seemingly don't know who they are yet.

Seraphim Fairy Queen is such a cool idea, especially with all the talk of God(s) or a god in "Ash To Ash"! No pressure on the Langs, but it'd be so cool for them to be able to go through with that design concept, even if it's through minimal tactics. I can't wait to see who this Fairy Queen is. Is she the prince's mom??? A Sleeping Beauty-type character we could follow in a future show??? Ella's mom??? Ella's girlfriend??? This will be so cool!

There are more characters that we haven't been introduced to yet! We can still get Ella a girlfriend guys! Genuinely excited to see who they are!

The fact that the trolls eat rodents and other smaller creatures has me a bit worried about Sir Hop and Crumb. Maybe Ella was going to cook them for her step-family, but became friends with them instead, protecting them from getting eaten.

Not to get too Crazy, but what if the characters singing with Ella in "Last For Ever" are her parents, resurrected, or never actually dead or something. Probably not, but what if???

I have a feeling I'll be making more lists as we learn more about the show, so if I have any more thoughts I'll try.

[life-winners-liveblog]

Hello! I have some gifts, succulents handpicked for the winners personally :>

Grian, You get a Pacific Opal because it made me think of you

Scott, with so many pretty succulents, I decided on the White Stonecrop Succulent as its colorful and pretty

Pearl, the Scarlet Witch, i give thee an Sunyan Succulent because its super pretty and the color will definitely make it stand out among the other winner’s succulents the same way you do to me (As you are one of my favorites). But I feel its also fitting that I give you the “Ghost Plant Mother Of Pearl” because of its name.

Martyn, You get the Zebra Succulent as its spikey and not the most friendliest looking succulent and it grows like WILDFIRE.

Scar, I couldnt decide which of these 3 to give you so theyre all in a pair. My Favorite, The Bear Paw, The Panda Paw, and The Fang succulents. Theyre all fuzzy and fun-shaped. I actually own a Bear Paw, His name is Nick.

Oki Bye :> ~UvieNova

(Am I a crazy plant lady, yes. Yes i am)

Scott: Guess we have a first plant for the garden, I actually know this one so it shouldn't be hard to take care of it.

Scar: They got me 3! Do you think you can add 2 of them to the garden? I already put the third in therapists Scars.

Scott: Sure?

Grian: I mean I have one too so we could plant it as well.

~~~~~

Martyn: What am I supposed to do with this?

Pearl: I am going to put this one in my room near the window, if you don't want to keep it in yours just give it to Scott for his garden.