#if only at first because the way eris is animated is just enchanting and so cool

[starry-bi-sky]

Your fem danyal is living in my mind rent free, not going to lie! (I want to write the things my brainworms were daydreaming so freaking bad)

Your art is also very pretty (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

ME TOO BRO, ME TOO. She is very gorgeous to me and she’s been living in my mind rent free all week <33 good for her. So I have to inflict her on everyone else (and you should totally act on those brainworms if possible)

And thank you so much!! I’m so proud of how my art’s been improving lately, fem danyal has been my best muse for it

[houseofhurricane]

ACOTAR Fic: Bloom & Bone (2/32) | Elain x Tamlin, Lucien x Vassa

Summary: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court, trying to prevent the Dread Trove from falling into the wrong hands and wrestling with the gifts the Cauldron imparted when she was Made. Lucien, asked to join her, must contend with secrets about his mating bond. Meanwhile, Tamlin struggles to lead the Spring Court in the aftermath of the war with Hybern. And Vassa, the human queen in their midst, wrestles with the enchantment that turns her into a firebird by day, robbing her of the power of speech and human thought. Looming over all of them is uniquet peace in Prythian and the threat of Koschei, the death-god with unimaginable power. With powers both magical and monstrous, the quartet at the Spring Court will have to wrestle with their own natures and the evil that surrounds them. Will the struggle save their world, or doom it?

A/N: This chapter, from Tamlin's perspective, required a lot of careful thinking and revising and research on my part, specifically on whether abusers can ever recover and what that looks like. Personally, both in real life and in the ACOTAR world, I do believe that recovery is possible, but that abusers must admit the harm they have caused, reckon with themselves to create new patterns of thinking and behavior, and make amends if possible. This has shaped the way I've written Tamlin here and in future chapters. I do think that in the ACOTAR novels and fandom, Tamlin gets criticized for his behavior in a way that other characters with similarly abusive patterns of behavior (Rhys, Nesta, Eris) do not. I also think that redemption is possible for him. All that said, if you don't agree, or if you find Tamlin triggering, I completely understand. You can find all chapters here.

There are footsteps in the darkness, and Tamlin follows them, the breeze disappearing from his skin as he’s surrounded, pulled from the scent of flowers by walls of stone. It is impossible to gnash his teeth in this form so he growls instead, the sound amplified and echoing in the hollow chambers of his estate. Once, they were full of his courtiers and servants, studded with visiting nobles who sought his favor or his counsel.

Now, only Rhysand waits for him, at home in the darkest corner of the great hall.

“What do you want?” Tamlin asks, his voice clotted, scraping his throat.

“I’d like to send Elain Archeron to your court as my emissary.”

“Running short of spies, Rhysand?”

“If I wanted to spy on you, would I be here asking your permission?” He drawls the words but Tamlin has been listening in the forests, his hearing even sharper in this form, and he can hear the slightly anxious pitch in the man’s voice. And it’s curious that he would send someone, let alone his mate’s sister, as if he hadn’t ordered Lucien to make regular visits to Spring. “I’d like to be assured that she’ll be safe.”

“My lands are none of your concern but the dangerous creatures have all been put in their places.” He feels a fraction of his old self when he’s hunting, the mission clear and certain. He loves the feeling of his body obeying his commands, the only being in Prythian in whom he can put his trust.

“I need your word that she will be safe here.”

“You think I’ll lock her up in a ruined castle and throw away the key?”

Rhysand, damn him, simply takes a look around, the gloom deep enough to make his tan face pale as milk.

“Does Lucien stay here when he visits you?”

As if he doesn’t know that Lucien winnows himself to that castle in the human lands when their meetings and councils are over, preferring to spend his time with that Band of Exiles than stay a night in his ruined bedroom, or search the estate for another room that managed to escape its High Lord’s wrath.

Sometimes, he looks back at the being he was during the war with Hybern and feels no spark of recognition. Sometimes he has to coax himself to admit that it was he himself at those moments, starting a war over a woman he knew, even then, did not love him. And sometimes he does not force himself to recognize the truth of his own actions because the realization is always an explosion inside of him, blinding and horrifying, destroying another part of him every time he realizes what he became. What he is, still. It’s partly for this reason that he avoids the face he wore in those days.

“When would you like the Archeron sister to come to my court?” As if he doesn’t know who Elain is.

“She would like to arrive as soon as possible. I believe she stayed up last night packing her trunks.”

“So eager to get away from you?” The pleasure he feels at saying the words catches in the throat of the beast, unused to speaking like a lord, smooth words concealing the whirling of his mind.

“All the members of my court are free to go where they wish.”

Rhysand must really want this outcome, to tread so lightly. Usually his response would have been along the lines of Fuck you, you imprisoned my mate, and now Tamlin watches as he coaxes his mouth into a line resembling a smile’s curve and, as he so often does, picks a nonexistent piece of lint off his tunic.

“What do you require for her?”

“Nothing too impossible, I think. A bed, a bathing-room, a door that locks. A guarantee that she’ll be fed at regular intervals. I did mention that Lucien and Queen Vassa would be joining Elain, didn’t I? So it will be three of everything.”

“Such confidence in their desire to reside here.”

Rhysand’s lip curls. “If you think this is impossible--”

He should decline, insist again that these lands are him, but compulsion pulls at him, a heady thrum.

“It will take at least a month to make this estate adequate to your needs.”

“Elain would like to be here sooner.”

“There is a cottage in the village.”

“If I assist?”

Tamlin lets the growl build in his throat. He’s not sure which is worse: Rhysand knowing the exact layout of his home, or having Rhysand’s people build it because Tamlin himself isn’t sure who would dedicate this kind of service to him, now that they’ve seen the rot at his core. At least they still fear him enough to leave his jewels untouched, or else are unable to breach the surrounding wards.

“Am I to believe that you would send your precious artisans to build the home of your enemy?”

“I’ve given you reason enough to believe anything of me,” Rhysand says, and the words are transparent, infuriatingly so: a person could see that he was truly good if only they were in the mood to look. That Tamlin had allowed himself to believe otherwise for centuries gnaws at him, even as he wants to believe that this decent version of the male is just another mirror, a trick of the light.

“If we begin with the kitchens and three bedrooms, a week will be enough.” He shifts from paw to paw. “Ask Elain what she would like to look at, what colors she prefers.”

“Elain likes the colors of flowers. Soft and delicate furnishings.”

“And she cannot speak for herself?” The words come out harsh, grating, nothing like the tone he’d envisioned in his head, which would, all on its own, indicate the irony of Rhysand taking an Archeron sister for granted, presuming her words. He would say, if there was anybody who cared enough to ask, that after so much time in this form, he has lost the art of modulating his tone.

“I’ll ask her,” Rhysand says, soft and dangerous, “my precious artisans and builders will arrive tomorrow at first light, then. Should I advise them to look for you in this form?”

“I’ll look as civilized as you.” He manages to match Rhysand’s tone. The control required is exquisite. “Though I’m sure you’ll be around to make sure they survive the morning.”

“Prove me wrong, then, Tamlin.”

Of course, Rhysand disappears before Tamlin can lunge for him, his claws snapping on nothing but laden air. The marble floor, dull with inattention, pounds his paws and then his joints as he, the beast outside and inside, hits the floor. The foundation of the estate rumbles in complaint.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

There are no mirrors to allow Tamlin to observe the face of his Fae form, but his arms and legs are only skin and muscle. If he were slaughtered and prepared as a meal, the diners would complain about the gristle of him, the sharpness of the knife required to make the meal palatable.

He finds a clean shirt and pants and boots which are not spangled with embroidery or jewels, and though the fabric gives off a musty scent, he doubts that Rhysand, his artisans, or his builders will get close enough to judge the stink. Tamlin knows the way that gossip travels across the seven courts, imagines there are stories about his haunting of the Spring Court forests, that they’ll only be surprised he doesn’t appear with fur and claws or else covered in dirt. With this in mind, he scrubs his face and body with water and the last gritty bits of soap until the skin squeaks clean under his fingertips.

After centuries of seeing his own reflection, Tamlin knows how he might look, but no matter what he envisions, the result is disappointing. Any beauty undone by the rot inside, which tears inside of him, an animal gnashing its teeth. The reason he prefers to be transformed, the creature outside matching the way he feels inside. He knows that he deserves this punishment, does not stop imagining Feyre’s wasted body, the sound of her retching, Amarantha destroying that weak and beautiful human frame while he was so careful to be still and silent. He deserves this feeling for Hybern, for calling Feyre a whore, for her sisters in the Cauldron and all the hurt he caused. The list is endless and he recounts each item on it, filling up the hours when his forests are silent, when all the monsters within are too afraid of him to stir.

Despite all his years as a warrior, he never thought that he was such a terror. For a time he tried to blame Feyre for this unleashing, then Rhysand, but too soon there was only the stark reality that he himself was the only one to blame. How he’d never noticed the horrible thing inside his chest is beyond him, a question that will tear him up for all the centuries remaining to him.

Still, in spite of the punishment he is owed, Tamlin is tired of lurking in shadowy corners, in the parts of his forests that made even Amarantha’s creatures hesitant. He does not know what will happen when he is not alone, but finds himself thinking that even the harshest punishment would be better than this life.

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The builders arrive, the artisans and gardeners and even an architect, all peering over Rhysand’s wings to get a glimpse of Tamlin. He can see disappointment in her eyes, that he is all High Fae, and for a moment he wants to tell them how strange it felt, to spend the night so naked and unarmed. Then he thinks the sight of his estates will generate pity enough.

Then, beside Rhysand, the Morrigan appears, holding the hand of Elain Archeron, who does not break his gaze, not even when he feels the length of the stare, the blaze of his own eyes.

“Elain wanted to assist in the gardens,” Rhysand says, by way of introduction. “She has quite the talent for arranging flowers.”

“I see you will put anybody in your court to work for you,” he snaps back, just to watch the Morrigan lurch toward him, her beauty gilded with her fury. Rhysand’s court will bark at any slight towards their High Lord.

“I have heard about the famed beauty of the gardens of the Spring Court and I wanted to see them for myself.” Elain Archeron has dipped into a curtsy, the pearls at her ears gleaming in the first rosy fingers of dawn, her gown the colors of sunrise, rosy pink and coral and orange delicately interwoven. When she looks back up at him, her face is all serene, except her eyes, which stay fixed on Tamlin, assessing his expression as if a face could be a trove of knowledge. All he’s ever heard about this sister is her beauty, her kindness, her sweet softness, as though she were a statue made of sugar, but now she regards him like a goddess, piercing and certain amidst the glow of herself.

“Spoken like my emissary.” Rhysand nods at her and she aims a thin-lipped smile at him. “Elain will walk your gardens and propose a design for them. I think you’ll find her taste to be exquisite. And Laella has come with her proposal for renovations to your estate.”

The architect steps forward, scrolls in her hands, which she unfurls and explains to Tamlin without so much as a greeting. While she speaks, he realizes two things: that she is a dryad, and that her plans for the estate are lovely. She will polish the marble, working with the existing design, but add windows and open-air spaces so that those in residence can enjoy the breezes and the sunlight without having to step outside. Tamlin has never been to the palaces of the Night Court, but he cannot imagine that this design is a copy, and as the architect’s fingers scratch over her parchment, he finds himself nodding along. Laella has erased the border between indoors and outdoors. In such a house, he would not feel so surrounded by stone, so deprived of air. He could even imagine wanting to stay, always.

And if, in the end, he cannot bear to stay inside, it will give him a certain satisfaction to watch Rhysand’s reaction to the ruin.

“The complete renovation will take at least a month, but I will have a better estimate once I inspect your home and have your approval for changes.” The dryad’s voice rasps and moans, wind in the branches and the strain of the tree trunk beneath. Tamlin can feel Rhysand’s eyes on him, waiting for a slight, a show of prejudice against this faerie, not a High Fae, and while he aims a smirk at the other male, he nods over the plans.

“You are aware that I’m a beast?” He points, at random, to a large room made brighter and more spacious in the plans.

“Our High Lord has told us stories,” Laella tells him, a wisp of deep green hair escaping from its arrangement, her gray skin flushing in spite of her professional composure when she sees the talons that appear on the backs of his hands, summoned without a thought. “He also said you saved his life.”

“I imprisoned his mate in this place,” he counters, his voice rising, the artisans and builders and architects no longer straining to hear. Rhysand and the Morrigan have taken subtle steps to block Elain Archeron from view. “I had her sisters kidnapped by the king of Hybern. Ransomed my lands for an obsession with a female who rightly wanted nothing to do with me.” He can hear the ragged edge in his voice, the growl, and fears that in a moment he may turn animal again, that he has been cursed with an unwilling transformation without his knowing, an inversion of his powers.

“A truly evil person never believes they have done wrong,” Elain Archeron says, from behind Rhysand’s wings. Her voice is soft but pitched to carry. “From what I’m told, these lands are filled with beings who do evil deeds with no remorse for the suffering they leave behind.”

Rhysand has turned towards her, staring as if he’s never heard Elain say so many words. Everyone is staring at her. Tamlin feels the weight of their eyes fall off his shoulders, heaves a breath.

“Anyway,” she continues, more hesitantly, as if she’s aware that everyone is watching her, “I have to believe that the path to becoming evil is hard to distinguish. That we could get there with the best intentions.”

She flushes and goes silent, and he notices that she said we instead of you, and he thinks that maybe Rhysand’s sister-in-laws are not as moon-eyed over him as the rest of his court. The Morrigan squeezes her hand, and for a second Tamlin almost smiles; seeing the Morrigan out of battle and her armor will never stop amusing him, like seeing a jungle cat begin to sing.

“Are the plans to your liking, Tamlin?” Rhysand asks once it is clear that Elain will not say anything else. “I will pay for the renovations in exchange for one favor.”

“I have enough gold in my stores to compensate your people fairly.” He learned in the cradle, never to accept a favor as payment, especially without detailing very particular terms.

“You don’t know what I’ve promised them in payment.”

Tamlin growls and nods his head toward Laella.

“I offer double what your High Lord promised,” he snarls. “So long as you finish within the month.”

Those smiles are the first he’s received in years. No matter that he had to purchase them. The gold was sitting in his vaults, unused.

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Hours later, Tamlin stalks the grounds of the estate. The builders have already begun basic repairs under Laella’s guidance, the artisans scouring each room for pieces which might fit the dryad’s vision. Noise echoes throughout the halls, a mirror effect that leaves him dizzy. He has spent too many days in the forest.

“Have you come to see my plans?” Elain Archeron asks, appearing at his elbow, breathing hard.

“You followed me.” He growls, wanting to scare her off. No good can ever come of an Archeron on his trail. He’ll tell this to himself until it feels true.

“Your gardens are too beautiful to be so overgrown.” Again, no malice and no flattery, only gentle confidence. “I’ve been making all kinds of plans”

“You want to change everything.”

“You have an opportunity to have the greatest gardens in all of Prythian, maybe all of this world, and you are letting them go in favor of thorns and rot. As a gardener, I’m honestly offended.”

Tamlin stops mid-stride and watches her, assessing the truth of the statement. Her hands settle on her hips, the parchment of her plans bunching under her fingers. One colored pencil, pink, is tucked behind her ear, and three more are tucked into the bodice of her gown, thinnest fingers of blue and green and gold reaching for her clavicle.

“Your sisters must have warned you about me.”

“Oh, I don’t think Nesta’s ever been afraid of you,” she says, a smile forming on her lips.

“I don’t mean Nesta.”

He can feel the strain in her as she keeps her eyes on his, her breath hissing past her teeth.

“I will not talk about Feyre with you. If she ever wants to see you again, she knows how to find your doorstep.”

“Then why is Rhysand sending you here?”

“Night Court business.” She’s trying to say the words smoothly, but she blushes, the tip of her nose going pink.

“You’re lying.”

“I don’t owe you every single morsel of the truth.”

“You’re on my lands,” he says, only realizing the menace in his tone when she takes one step away from him and then another. “Why are you here?”

“My sisters have often told me that I need to see the gardens of the Spring Court.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair, catching a snarl so roughly that he has to hold back a wince. “That is a trip for an afternoon. Your High Lord sends you as his emissary and his gardener.”

“He -- I volunteered.”

“Tell me, Elain Archeron, are you Rhysand’s spy as well?”

“I would be a horrible spy if I told you that, High Lord. At any rate, do you think I have the skills for such a mission?”

“I hear you came out of the Cauldron with gifts, but their dimensions are vague in every recounting.”

She goes pale, as if she remembers who she’s speaking with, the calculus that made her Fae and took, he’s heard, a life story she deemed precious.

“You forgot for a moment that I ruined your life,” he says. He does not want to draw out the awkwardness. Let her walk away, let her leave, if she’s so inclined.

“Did you know that Hybern would capture us?”

“I believed the king. I thought that Feyre would be rescued, the enchantment broken, that we would live happily in my court for a thousand years.”

Elain snorts.

“You’re an idiot,” she says.

Tamlin just stares at her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some fearsome warrior?” she continues, crossing her arms at her chest, “Even someone with no idea of strategy could tell you that Hybern would have never honored your promises. Even a human could have told you that.”

“You have never been in love then. You’d believe anything. Give anything. Do anything, just to have your beloved in your arms again.” His chest is tight and yet his skin feels too big for his body. He wants to hug himself but wills his fingers into fists, feeling the strain of the claws against the muscles of his hands.

“You nearly destroyed my sister.”

“You need to--”

“What I want to know,” she says, as if she doesn’t hear him at all, has no regard for rank or even danger, “is if a part of you did it on purpose. If you saw her suffering and wanted it to continue.”

He holds her gaze, the warm brown like whiskey, strong and sparkling.

“You do not believe what you said earlier, then.”

“I want to know if it could be true.”

“Is that what brings you to the Spring Court?”

She sighs, then uncrosses her arms.

“First,” she says, unfurling the parchment between them, “I’d like you to tell me what you think about my ideas for your gardens.”

He decides to look where she’s pointing instead of breathing another threat. She speaks of hyacinths and peonies and ferns, the lilac and forsythia bushes, and cherry trees and weeping willows that will line the paths, under which she proposes he install benches for lingering.

“Who do you think will be staying in these gardens so long?” he asks, the words more melancholy than he intends. He hates the way this male sounds, all longing and self-pity and no action at all, but he can’t keep the noise from escaping him.

She rustles the parchment, making it thunder. “There aren’t any other residents of Spring Court?”

“Not for lack of trying.”

“Why don’t you try to keep them?”

“You think I could have done something different?” He’s daring her to make a list of her suggestions. Cauldron boil him, his own list is endless and ever-growing.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” she says, sighing as if there is more to say but she is too weary to muster the words, and he cannot believe that Elain Archeron, with her soft voice and her poise, all the glow of her, would be ignored, but Tamlin keeps quiet, allowing her to speak. “Anyway, I haven’t shown you my favorite part of my plan. I want you to install a field of tulips where the grounds meet the forest.” She sweeps her hand in that direction. “Mor has promised to find bulbs on the continent. I grew up hearing stories of tulip fields that went for miles.”

“You don’t think it sends a message of weakness to our enemies, to greet them with flowers?” It’s the second time within the moment when he’s asked for her opinion instead of stating his own.

Her nod is decisive, no sweetness in the gesture.

“Your enemies will know that the true terror is inside. Only the weak require a strong wall to hide behind.” He wonders if she’s thinking of her human lord, the one who left her. Tamlin has wandered as a beast for months, but the gossip of Prythian still finds him. Lucien has an ear at every door, and Rhysand’s monthly meetings are full of updates on political dealings that make Tamlin’s head ache.

“I’ll allow the tulips,” he says. “After all, you’ll be living here for a while, according to your High Lord. If my enemies are encouraged, you’ll see the result yourself.”

She nods, absently, no longer looking at his face but off into some middle distance. Probably considering a different arrangement of flowers, Tamlin thinks, deciding not to wait until she trains his eyes on him again. Instead he lets his feet carry him into the forest without only the smallest nod of goodbye.

He travels miles before he can rid himself of the image of her in his hall, rosy with the dawn light and fragrant as the gardens she dreams up. It is dangerous to think of an Archeron sister more than fleetingly, though, and so gradually Tamlin fills his mind up with the sights of the forest, the dappled light and the creatures that dart away when they hear him coming.

[valkyriewarriors]

| Goddess of the Hearth | VI

warnings: none

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

“Wake up, Nesta!” The voice of her sister Elain rang loudly through her ears. It was too early for this. Nesta groggily awoke to see Elain’s wide eyes, excitement swirling in them. Outside, Nesta could hear the commotion of the priestess’ hall.

“What's going on?” Nesta asked, still tired from the sudden awakening.

Elain only smiled as she sat at the room’s vanity, combing her hair with a delicate wooden brush. The soft auburn curls smoothing out and gathering a healthy glow are the sunlight poured through the windows. “The emperor and his son are coming! Everyone’s excited to see if they’re looking for a bride.”

At this news, Nesta wanted to go back to bed. There's no way she wanted to do a ritual today, she had too many chores to do. They will pile up tomorrow if she was busy with a ritual all day.  “How long will this take?”

Elain smiled sweetly at Nesta almost teasingly, “You’re saying you wouldn't want to be a bride to the future emperor?”

“Rome is a Republic, Eris isn’t guaranteed to be Emperor just because of who his father is.” Nesta began to lay back in bed and pull up her covers but they were swiftly yanked back by Elain who gave her a stern look, her facial features hardening. “Nesta you can’t run away from this forever, if anything you’ll be the first to…”

“Be sold off like a prized horse?” Feyre’s gentle voice came from the room’s entrance. She was already adorned in her flowing white robes.Her golden brown hair veiled and tied up tightly. She strode towards the foot of her bed, arms crossing and a slender eyebrow raised.

“Exactly baby sister.” Nesta said grimly as she peeled herself from bed and chucked on white robes. Feyre scoffed and sat on her bed as she watched Nesta begin to work her fingers through her hair. “This is our life now Nesta.” Feyre said quietly even Elain avoided Nesta’s gaze. “If the emperor offered his son’s hands to any of us, we would be set for life. Father’s debt..”

“Do not mention him.” Nesta seethed over her shoulder. Feyre’s lips tightened before she rose from the bed and helped her stick pins in her hair. “I’m sorry Nesta, but it would be a good thing. For us.”

Nesta sighed as Feyre helped her finish pinning her veil to her hair. “I know Feyre. I know.”

-

The temple’s fire blazed fiercely in the center of Vesta’s altar. Before the flame stood the High Priestess, her veil and dress, made of the finest silk, reflected the fiery hues. As Nesta entered the room she was wary of the way the High Priestess eyed her, giving her a vague smile from beneath her veil.

“Nesta, we were just waiting for you.” Her voice boomed through the altar. Next to her stood Eris, his vibrant red hair eerily similar to the flame before them and the Emperor himself, curiously studying Nesta. He smiled wickedly at her, eyeing her up and down. It made her stomach turn.

Beside her stood Feyre and Elain who were bowing to them. Feyre slightly nudged Nesta forward. “Yes, high priestess, I’ll serve you any way I can.” She bowed to her as well. When she rose the High Priestesses' grin widened. “You will maintain the fire during the ritual blessing.” Nesta swallowed but nodded and accepted.

All the priestesses circled around the flame, as Eris and his guards ventured towards the center. Nesta watched the flame flicker and spatter, a grand warmth flooding over her.

“Let us begin this blessing.” The High Priestess gestured towards a slaughtered goat as an offering. The animal fueled the fire, increasing its height as the room flooded with scorching heat. Eris stumbled back but Nesta stood her ground. This is when she felt the power of Vesta herself, let the flame flood through her pores, throughout her body, and fill her with eternal bliss.

“Our Goddess Vesta, may she give our young Eris a life of success, and blessings. May she watch over him in these coming days..” The high priestess began her chants raising her hands to the sky, the rest of the priestesses followed suit. Nesta maintained the fire steady for it to not sputter and flicker madly in various directions. She waved a fan to calm its wild directionality, almost in a trance, knowing where the fire would fluctuate. 

“...May Eris maintain the peace of our Empire”

And then Nesta’s vision went white, blinding her momentarily. She stumbled back as visions filled her head. Blood curdling screams rang through her ears, crying out for help. She fell to her knees as her head flooding with images of slaughter, blood splattered, children falling to their deaths. A dark haired warrior broken and beaten on the temple’s steps. Their blood pooling in a golden cup from which Eris drank from.

“Nesta!” The High Priestess yelled through the dizziness as her vision began to clear. Nesta gasped as she felt the once blissful warmth in her veins boil her blood. It was burning her from the inside out, she wanted it out of her, she couldn’t handle it anymore. She cried out before the flame ruptured and Eris screamed. His guards shouted in pain, as they lunged for him. But that's when the whole world went dark for Nesta as she fell back.

Nesta gasped, sitting up quickly from her bed. Her whole body was shaking and she was drenched in sweat. A nightmare. No, it was a memory from that day.

She felt sick suddenly and got up to bathe herself of the sweat and memories.

-

When Cassian arrived at her room, her door was shut firmly. He tried to concentrate, keeping a uniform stance as he stood guard. But Rhys’ voice kept going through his head.

Do you have feelings for her?

No. He couldn’t. She’s a Vestal Virgin, a sacred priestess, she would never look at him as anything more than a foot soldier, a lowly bas-

You can’t possibly think that.

The weight of his armor suddenly felt uncomfortable around his shoulders. Cassian wanted to forget her words and forget that night in the moonlight, it would be easier this way. There should always be a barrier between them, she’s engaged… to the emperor’s son. These feelings, its infatuation. He’ll get over it, he has to.

“Optione?” A small voice called out. Cassian looked down to see a small boy in servant's clothing holding a plate of hot and steamy food. His eyes widened as he took in Cassian, his hands tightly clenched around the serving plate.

“You’re…. the Lord of Bloodshed. From the Germanic campaigns.” He breathed.

Cassian bristled, “How do you know that?”

“My brother served with you,” The boy said softly. Cassian tried to observe his features; light brown hair, pale skin, brown eyes. His brother could’ve been any one of the hundreds that flickered through those fields.

“He came back to tell everyone the killing field you plowed through.”  Cassian shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know the extent of what they told of him in the lands of the Empire. But he wouldn’t doubt it was anything short of a nightmare.

“That was a long time ago. The war is over now.” Cassian said harshly. This boy knew what he did in the fields, which is why he shook with fear before him now.

Suddenly the door opened and a scent of lilacs and roses hit him in the gut. “I was beginning to wonder if Helion would let me starve.” Cassian straightened as the priestess glided from behind him like a silky white shadow. The boy stepped away from Cassian all too quickly, and bowed towards her. 

“I see Helion provided me with a splendid meal.” She grabbed the plate into her hands. “Thank you, you’re dismissed.”  She said to the servant who obediently bowed and left, perhaps glad to be far away from Cassian.

As she went back to her room,Cassian could smell the richness of the mutton. His stomach involuntarily growled at the scent. She stopped in her tracks.

“Have you not eaten, optione?” Her voice was like a sliver around his ears.

“I will after my shift.” He said firmly.

She sighed as she observed his all too stiff stance. “Come in and eat.”

“I don’t think that's a good idea.”

She raised her eyebrows, “I’m not inviting you into my bed optione... I want you to eat so you don't pass out while trying to guard my door.”

“I'm fine, priestess. I've endured worse.” He had, but her stare was like a thousand swords twisting in his chest.

“Cassian.” She said exasperated. His jaw tightened, wishing his name out of her mouth wasn't so enticing, enchanting. “Please, just eat something. And then I’ll stop bothering you.”

He looked around the halls as if expecting someone watching them. He gave in, because he knew it was impossible not to… especially with her.

“Very well.”

-

They entered her room and he was drowning in her scent. The door to her private bath was slightly ajar. She must’ve taken her bath recently. He tried to not let his mind wander from that thought.

She set the food on a small table that overlooked a giant glass window. He could see the surrounding green hills of the mansio. The priestess gestured to a chair across from her. “Come. Eat.”

He walked cautiously towards her who was already cutting him a slice off her mutton, and shoved the plate towards him, her meal split even in half. When he hesitated to eat she spoke up,  “I’m not that hungry anyway,” she muttered.

He grimaced, “You should eat.”

“I will eat after you.”

After taking a quick bite of the mutton he got up.“I’m done, I should go back to my post.”

“You barely ate anything.” Her glare stopped him.

Cassian sighed. “This is your food, priestess. I shouldn’t even be in here.”

The priestess ignored him. “Do you drink wine?” Cassian watched as she grabbed a nearby wine bottle.

“Not on duty.” This time his tone was firm,  and the priestess only nodded. She poured a drink for herself. She took a sip, almost savoring it. “That boy… he called you the Lord of Bloodshed.” He stopped in his tracks.

“It’s not a title I’m proud of.” He muttered. Cassian looked up to see she stood in his pathway towards the door. Leaning against the wall, she balanced her wine in one hand. She looked up to him, taking him in as her eyes drifted over his form, over the armor he wore. Perhaps trying to look right through it.

“From what I heard, the field you left was stained blood red.” She whispered. He only closed his eyes, trying to keep out the shame, the guilt. He can picture every face of the life he took, every brother he lost along the way.

He was deep into these memories when suddenly he felt a hand on his wrist. Her small soft fingers ignited a fire underneath his skin, but it brought instant warmth to him.

“I’m sorry.” She swallowed. “I didn’t mean for that to bring you any...” She stopped briefly, “back in Rome, high officers would come to the altar and would want mind cleansing rituals.”

“Mind cleansing?”

“To heal the mind of painful… memories.”

Cassian swallowed trying to suppress the images that flooded his mind, “and do they work?”

Her fingers slipped from his wrist, too quickly for him. “The mind is a tricky place, even Vesta can’t heal such horrors.”  She was standing so close to him now. “But I could arrange for my sisters to perform the same ritual… for you.”

For him. The air around him was thinning.

“The things I’ve done, Priestess. I don’t know if I really deserv-”

Her hand suddenly gripped his, almost sensing his rise in panic. “You’re a brave soldier.” She was firm in her tone. “From what I heard, the Lord of Bloodshed did everything he could to save his comrades. You should be proud of that.” She said gentler, her voice a soft melody to his ears.

“Would you do this for any legion soldier?”

“I’ve told you before, Cassian. You’re not like the rest.”

He looked up to her, her eyes reminded him of the ocean now, of the sea by his home calling to him. There was a tendril of hair that escaped from her tied crown hair, brushing her cheek lightly. Before he knew it, Cassian slid his fingers across her cheek and pushed it behind her ear. The movement was short, but it lasted forever.  

She was looking up towards him now, her deep grey-blue eyes shone in the candlelight. He didn't even notice the sun went down, he wasn't aware of anything but her at the moment. Cassian trailed his fingers back over the sharp curve of her cheekbone to gently grasp her chin.  Her lips full, slightly stained from the wine that gave them an even more luscious red tint.

“Nesta.” She breathed.

His heart started racing as he stared down at her, a blush rising over her carved features. “Is that your name?”

“Yes.”

“Nesta.” He whispered like it was a sacred prayer.  Nesta’s eyes fluttered when he spoke her name, her lips parting. Now he couldn't resist closing the gap between them. His lips lightly brushed hers for an instance. A thousand lightning bolts shot through him but they extinguished when he heard shifting at her door.

The sharp knock made them quickly pull apart.

“Priestess?” It was Rhysand. Immediately he straightened up. He couldn’t let Rhysand see him like this in here, along with the Priestess, with Nesta.

He opened the door to find Rhysand standing there, ready for duty. “Rhysand. I was about to wake you for your shift.” His voice clearing, trying to stop his head from spinning. Rhysand only gave him raised eyebrows and tried to peer over his shoulders. What were you doing there? He silently asked.

“I thought it might be a good idea to do a final sweep of the room before I went to bed,” Nesta said in a clear tone. He didn't turn around, trying to recover from the fact that she lied for him.

Rhysand only nodded and stepped out of Cassian’s way for him to return to their room. But he wanted to see her one last time, he couldn't resist. Cassian did a bow towards Nesta, briefly catching her eyes before out the door.

Rhysand closed the door behind him. “I take it there’s no potential danger?” He asked skeptically.

“No, of course not.” Cassian replied probably too sharply.

Rhysand ignored his tone. “You’re gonna need a good rest before tomorrow Cassian.”

He sensed the uneasiness in Rhysand. “And why’s that?”

Rhysand looked around and lowered his voice. “There's... some reports of thieves on the roads we will be taking tomorrow. I’m sure in the worst case scenario, we could take care of it. But you'll be upfront so I want extra attentiveness.”

“Thieves? I thought the roads we took are only taken by senators?” Cassian knew how private and secluded the roads were, few knew they even existed.

“There may have been a leak somewhere or maybe they got lucky and stumbled upon them. I don’t know, but we need to be on guard tomorrow. And focused on what our duties are.” He enunciated the last part. Cassian only nodded but he can still feel the softness of her skin underneath his fingers. You’re not like the rest. 

“Cassian.” Rhysand said, pulling Cassian out of his own head. 

“No, you’re right Rhysand. I promise I’ll be focused.”

[encchants-moved]

            𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐀'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄  /    𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐁 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄

Alright, so.. after days of telling myself i was going to write a sea!siren verse for Layla and then proceed to procastinate the whole time, i finally decided to write it down. I'm sorry if this is gonna sound a little shitty, but my brain is still in phase of recovering from my last year of high school and finals.

Anyways, this is what i've had in mind! In the sea!siren verse, Layla was born in the sea and has lived in the sea her whole life, she  was part of the largest family of sirens in the entire ocean, indeed, she has many sisters, and all of them were all educated to have the same mindset and the same duty: their singing voices had an extreme value to all of them, they were used for the sole purpose of bringing new "preys" into their den who they were later going to consume and fullfill their hunger for human meat, and then steal their treasures. To put it shortly, Layla's family was composed of dangerous and bloodthirsty sirens, who lured nearby sailors with their enchanting music and singing voices, causing them to shipwreck.

The 'Siren's den' was mostly made of ancient wooden ships who have been damaged and sunk in the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again, and was later used by the siren as their shelter, most of it is also made of the bones of their victims which they have used as decorations ( very nice.. ) and weapons The mother of all sirens is named Hyrissa. She is a strict, unaffective and cold mother who has never showed any kind of love and warmth toward her daughters, the only thing she ever cared about was educating them in becoming hunters and bring in food for the family, as if they were all ruthless animals. She has educated them in using their singing voices and music for the sole purpose of attracting their preys, and not as some kind of personal pleasure. None of the sirens were allowed to have any hobbies that could have distracted them from what needed to be done in order to support the family, anyone who was caught doing anything outside of their duty was going to be severely punished.

The sirens knew their place, they knew what needed to be done, and were always ready to provide food for the family. Layla was part of this group and has always been loyal to her mother and her sisters. She always obeyed her mother and was well aware of the consequences of any foolish act.. she was just like her sisters, obedient, and ready to strike anytime.

However, one day.. something happend, Layla has started to feel something that she couldn't quite understand. One day, as she sat lonely in a desolated part of the abyss, she heard a melody.. a melody that did not come from any of her sisters, she knew her sisters voices and none of them came as close as this one. Immediately, Layla thought an intruder came in, and decided to follow the melody. The melody she heard.. came from a group of sea creatures, peacefully having their own concert with other creatures sitting around and listening, as they let music take over their minds.. but not in the way Layla was used to, it was.. a peaceful way, a relaxing way, that music brought them into a world of peace.. and somehow, it affected Layla too. This is when everything she has learned until she was young started to feel.. wrong.

She couldn't quite understand why, but the moment she returned back home and swam away from that concert, she began to feel a deep void inside of her, as if that peaceful melody somehow made her complete.However, she knew that these feelings were not good, she knew what could happen to her if she got distracted from her duty and she didn't want to end up in trouble with her mother.. so she tried her best to keep those feelings away, but everytime she heard that melody, she always ended up being driven by it.. until she silently ended up admiring that concert from afar, and enjoy the music.. and actually feel pleasure from hearing it. One day, however.. she was punished for her foolishness. Her older sister, Eris, caught her swimming away from the dome, and when she found her silently listening to that concert, she didn't hesitate to pull her away and immediately bring her to her mother to receive her punishment.

Everyone assisted to Layla being scolded, and all her sisters were incredibly disappointed by her behavior. She was mocked, she was pushed away and imprisoned for days.. until she finally decided to confess what she did, and beg her mother to set her free, and that she was never going to be caught outside of the done ever again unless it came to bring in more preys. However, that's not what she truly wanted, not anymore.

Being imprisoned for days with everyone looking down to her made her realize she wasn't truly happy in that sad place filled with nothing but evil and death. Her whole life, her mind has been blinded from what she has truly felt in her heart, they kept her in the done because they didn't want her to go outside and find her own self, but hearing that little concert for the first time.. made ber find out that there's more in her than devoting her whole life to slaughtering innocent sailors and provide for her family, and she wanted to explore that.

Suddenly, she wasn't blind anymore: she has found out about a world she didn't know about and that was kept hidden from her for too long.

She needed to escape, and get away from that horrible place.. a horrible place that she once called home, a place in which she thought was happy, but happiness was never something to think about in the first place. As soon as she was freed from the prison, she waited for that one moment of distraction that could have given her a chance to escape, and when that moment came.. she didn't hesitate to swim away as fast as she could, leaving everything behind and getting as far from the den as she could.

Leaving her family behind broke her heart, but she knew deep down her sisters never truly cared for her, so.. the pain was not that intense, all she thought about was leaving her old life behind, and hopefully menage to forget about it all by devoting her life to something that truly made her feel complete, something that she never got the chance to do until now.

[usaghinanami99]

@pichipichiparadise  Didn't I say you should be prepared for this? Well, here it comes! I hope I spelt all the titles right 'xD And sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, I always do my best when I write in foreign languages but I'm just your average teenage fangirl who loses all of her reason before what she loves the most. Before starting, I should say that I love both slow romantic ballads and fast-paced pop songs on an even level, so I don't think I am too biased towards any of the two genres; truth to be said, MM offers some great pieces for both types of music, and I like all of them. Now, here's what you were all waiting for, i. e. my complete ranking of all the songs from the anime Mermaid Melody!

48) Ai no ondo Sorry, but it's just a big "no" for me. The tune is so irritating that it somehow annoys me to listen to it. 47) Koi wa nandarō? Urgh. Same as before. Irritating tune and even more irritating singer – it's higher on the list just thanks to some passages in the lyrics which make me think of some sort of sexual innuendo, and since I am both a hopeless romantic and a huge pervert, I vastly appreciate it XD 46) Oh, yeah! Alala Does this remind you of exaggeratedly cute idol songs? Because it's the impression it gives me, and it's not a good one. (OK, I'm overdoing, there are definitely some idols I like, but Jpop rarely clicks with me if it's not related to anime in some way) 45) Splash dream! Er... this is getting boring, but I just cannot stand Asumi Nakata's voice 'xD However, this is where the tunes stop being outright irritating for me, and it's just a matter of them failing to catch my heart. 44) Aurora no kaze ni notte I'm on shortage of comments already, I guess I'll just say that Ema Kogure sounds like a 2 year-older and that I keep on forgetting how the tune goes. 43) Star! Meromero heart Irritating singer, forgettable tune, stupid lyrics (I know it's done on purpose, but still). On with the next one. 42) Mother symphony OMG, I feel guilty for puttin your favourite song so low! Actually, I must admit that I've never thought about the lyrics the way you put it, and maybe reading your comment will help me appreciate this song a bit more ^^ However, this spot is where the songs start being just boring and uninteresting to me instead of plain unsufferable, so it's still something... I guess? 41) Nanatsu no umi no monogatari – Pearls of mermaid As I said, boring and forgettable and little else. I think I've already lost half of my readers by now. 40) Birth of love Really? Did they waste Eri Kitamura's talents to make her sing this so-so piece? That's a crime on my book! 39) Piece of love I said I love love songs, but that's simply an understatement: I am a literal sucker for slow, deep, emotional songs about feelings and such. But this... what I can see is that it tried to be a romantic piece but failed miserably and ended up being a mere yawn-inducing song. I'm not exaggerating, I really find it sleep-inducing! In this sense, it low-key reminds me of A dream is a wish your heart makes, lol. But I feel the need to repeat that I absolutely adore romantic ballads if done right, in fact the main theme from Beauty and the Beast is my single best favourite song in the whole freaking world, OK? But there's a clear limit between "romantically slow" and "sleepily slow", and this songs trespass it. 38) Mizuiro no senritsu I have a sensation that composing more upbeat songs is easier, because there can't be the risk to have your listeners fall asleep, or is it just me? In fact, this makes nice for a Jpop song... it's just that I'm not that big a Jpop fan to start, and the idols I do follow, such as Momoiro Clover Z, I do so just because they have sung songs from animes I love. I guess this song is somehow OK, it's just a matter of me not connecting with it. 37) Portami con te OK, finally here's what I think is the worst Italian song – in case you started thinking I was biased and would put all the Italian songs on top... well, you wouldn't exactly be wrong about the bias part, but still. For me, this song is just on the limit between "nice romantic slow songs" and "boring as heck slow songs": one day I find it sweet, the other day I think it is simply too slow. But what really made me decide to put it low in the list is the fact that it's a mere rearrangement of Yume no sono saki e instead of a completely new piece of music, thus making it the sole and only non-original song from the Italian dub... which is not cool. Definitely not cool. 36) Yume no sono saki e I really have the same opinion about this song and the last one, due to them being so terribly similar, but I decided to give this the higher spot because I'll be eternally pissed that they decided to use an already-existing base to arrange Portami con te, and that's not something I could ever forgive 'xD 35) Daijina takarabako (slow version) I think this could make for a nice lullaby. What else could I say? It's cute and it manages to be slow without being boring; now, I don't consider it to be necessarily unforgettable, but here we're starting heading for the better. 34) Hana to chō no serenade This is the perfect LanHua song, full stop: it's just as haunting, hypnotizing and mysterious as it should be, with that exotical feel to the tune that spices it up. And it is even better in French! It may seem to be too low in the list to be a song I like, but these are just the songs that I find to be good but not great. 33) Kibō no Kaneoto – Love goes on Now that's a pretty battle song! True, it may not be at Sera Myu level (but then, very few can compare to the eternal goddess Akiko Kosaka), but I admire the fact that it manages to be both sweet and relatively upbeat at the same time. 32) Concerto d'amore "Good but not great" is again all I can say about this one, so I'll add that I'm very disappointed by the fact that the second half of the song has never made it to the series proper and is therefore only present in the CD version – which is a shame, because I think that is where the song gets better. The tune is nice enough, but maybe it's overused, in the sense that it always plays whenever a radio is on during the show, which sometimes feeds me up; but it isn't a boring song, definitely not. 31) Voce del buio OK, I'll admit that the concept is good: this villain song wanted to be suffocating and practically impossible to forget, and it succeeded perfectly – that's the type of melody that just can't get out of your mind after one single listening. But there's too much rap for my taste and, though the contrast between the tune of the stanzas and that of the refrains is amazing, it somehow comes off as "I recognize is good, but it's not exactly my genre". 30) Ever blue Man, this song used to be so much lower in my list! The thing is, I just couldn't make myself listen to it without suffering terribly xD But then I heard the French version and I finally understood that it was just a case of me hating Hitomi Terakado with a passion that prevented me from appreciating the song! In fact, thanks to other foreign dubs (such as the Portuguese ones, but really, each one of them is better than the Japanese), I discovered thatt with a decent singer, it actually turned out to be a pretty song, and I'm more persuaded than ever now that the Cosplay Singers have just released their cover! I'll never understand why they tend to cast chipmunks instead of voice actors in Japan, but whatever. 29) Super love songs! Nice, clean, pleasing song of the more upbeat scale, with a catchy refrain: that's how I like my Jpop. 28) Daijina takarabako Even I cannot understand how can I like a solo by Asumi Nakata, whom I honestly detest, but I guess that when the melody enchants you, miracles can happen. Good job! 27) Legend of mermaid I think I can't say anything about this song that hasn't already been said xD Well, I like it but don't love it; I can only add that the instrumental intercourses in between the singing parts come off as really annoying to me, I think I don't enjoy the way they are arranged that much. 26) Ashita ga mienakute OMG this song. This song. This song. OK, sorry, let me rephrase that: as a 9 year-older watching Pure on TV, I was at best indifferent about Mikaru's feelings, and even partially blaimed her for the pain Lucia was suffering. Growing up, I melted out towards the character and, while I'll always be on Lucia's side when it comes to the love triangle stuff, as a middle-schooler I undertood that nothing of the love drama was Mikaru's fault. Some years ago, when I started using the Internet, I discovered that the Japanese dub of the anime had different songs from the Italian one, and was literally blown away upon first listening this one. A song sung by a handicapped girl my age who mourned about her solituted and sufference was, like, so much akeen to me as a person that it seems a strange coincidence. Add to that that I loved seeing depressed characters, because it helped me find my own depression a little less terrible. I've grown out of that phase now, mostly thanks to me having changed school, but this song holds a special place in my heart, and if I were to make a ranking of the most relatable songs I've ever listened to, this would come third after Belle and Let it go. 25) Tsubasa wo daite As lost in my thoughts as I were, I haven't mentioned the fact that both songs have got enchanting melodies (and I thought this even before knowing of the songs, because I absolutely loved the instrumentals that played when Mikaru and Mikeru spelt out their poems in the Italian dub). This version gains a higher place because, while Mikeru is less relatable than Mikaru, Junko Minagawa is a much better singer. Ah, and it's a song sung by a character who laments his condition and talks long about his feelings, which is exactly my cup of tea. 24) Kodō – Perfect harmony We're getting better and better with the battle songs! Here's another catchy one, but I'm afraid I haven't got much else to say about this. 23) Ankoku no tsubasa This is another case of the French version making me appreciate the song more than before – seriously, though, just listen to it! I really dig the style taken here, it screams "sexy villain" from every note and it's done so damn right. 22) Kizuna And here comes my favourite Japanese battle song! The thing is, I really dig the refrain but cannot say the same about the stanzas, so I decided to even it out putting it around the middle. What is more interesting to me, though, is that this song was clearly the basis used to compose Eternal eternity for the 3rd season of Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon Crystal, which makes it again more important. I know what I said before about me disapproving of rearrangements, but what can I do when one is just so unbelievably good? (Because yes, I indeed prefer Eternal eternity. Kill me now.) 21) Sekai de ichiban hayaku Asa ga kuru bashō Have I said how much I like sweet lullabies yet? Because I love them. I've got no more to say. 20) La nostra forza (rearrange) My first reaction upon hearing this on the CD was like "OMG how dare they ruin one of my favourite songs", but with time I learnt to understand that this style actually fits LanHua more than the regular version would have. Though I don't think I have to point out that the one sung by the BBS and Alala is far better. 19) Mermaid Melody – Principesse Sirene There's a complex love-hate relationship between me and this song, and it depends on how much weigth I put on each aspect of it: if I concentrate on the tune, I find it to be a great song worth of the glorious tradition of Italian OPs; if I concentrate on the rest, though... I really can't understand how they could come up with the idea of casting a 14 year-older to sing it, and this is without mentioning the absurdly stupid lyrics it features. Maybe this is what leads me to enjoy the karaoke version so much. 18) Legend of mermaid (slow version) What can I say, if not that it's cute and pretty and sad and everything else? I don't like Asumi Nakata and Hitomi Terakado's versions one bit, but Kana Ueda saves the song for me. And the instrumentals are far better than those of the original version. 17) Ai no kiseki Another awesomely sad and emotional song sung by Kana Ueda – see the pattern here? It's the type of song that really makes you cry, and I live for that. 16) Return to the sea Closing Kana Ueda's section, and at the same time opening the sequence of the songs that I outright love, comes Sara's awesome image song, which is tremendously catchy and terribly depressing at the same time. That's the magic of music (and cartoons) for you. 15) Taiyō no rakuen – Promised land That's exactly the type of Japanese OP that clicks with me for its catchyness, and well... What can one say about Miyuki Kanbe, apart from being sorry over her tragedy? She's incredible. She's an excellent musical actress and a perfect Usaghi (though to be fair, my best favourite is and will always be Anza Ōyama, no matter what, with Miyuki being a close second). Her singing is gorgeous and, as a sidenote, she's the person that made me realize that not all nasal voices are terrible – quite the contrary, on her case. 14) Beautiful wish This. Song. Is. Just. Perfect. Especially in French (but I guess you're tired of me saying that, uh?), but Eri Kitamura rules, too. This melody is just too perfect and it would deserve to be no. 1, if only there weren't some songs which are even more perfect imo. 13) Rainbow notes It's like the first OP, but even better: the catchyness has been brought up to eleven and Miyuki is as freaking skilled as always, and she'll be dearly missed forever. 12) Before the moment Sorry everyone, but the prize is going to the Pure OP for me (please don't kill me!). Not that I prefer Eri over Miyuki (though I love them both so much), but it just... well, listen to it. That music. 11) Star jewel Rina rocks and this song shows it excellently! And Mayumi Asano is the only one from the main trio who sounds like a real human being, so that's a plus. There's some pure awesomeness here. 10) Dolce melodia To think that, when I was a kid, I reckoned this song was just too much. I mean, not even for an instant did I dislike it (the contrary, in fact), but I found it to be so overused that it started tiring me, to the point of getting on my nerves. Now that I'm older, I've understood that beautiful things are always beautiful and can just get better every time you enjoy it again. Now I can listen to this song on repeat more than a dozen times in a round and always recognize it for the true masterpiece it is. (Except for Caren's version, that is – Rossella Liberti's voice is just something I can't stand.) 9) Kuro no Kyōsōkyoku – Concerto That is, the perfect villain song. Villain songs are really the best songs in the Japanese dub. I don't know what to add. Oh, wait... 8) Yami no baroque ...What do you mean, there's an even more perfect villain song? This show is just too much and it's so beautiful it's killing me, but I'll gladly die with Mermaid Melody if I must. 7) La nostra forza OK, the Japanese version definitely wins in the lyrics department, but the music here is just too prefect for it to be any lower. 6) Ritorno all'oceano Pure awesomeness and nothing more. Denise Misseri's version is gold and Francesca Daprati's is diamond, but there's really nothing else to say. 5) Battito d'amore Please don't judge this basing on the CD version, because the duet between Valentina Ponzone and Claudia D'Ulisse can't even remotely compare to the many stunning versions heard in the TV series. Battle song at its finest. 4) Fantastica poesia Battle song at its ultimate finest, i. e. The very best battle song ever! With the addition of some sexual innuendos to spice up the lyrics, how much better can it get? 3) Stella preziosa This. This better. It's a telltale sign the fact that I just can't bring myself to choose which I prefer between Francesca Daprati's version and Elisabetta Cavalli. 2) Assoluto amore I can't say anything else, I'm afraid. Perfect music, great lyrics and Valeria Caponnetto to do the goddesses' job. I'm in heaven. 1) Dolce melodia (orgel version) A sadly emotional arrangement of a great song? Yes, please. This song is too perfect and it's too much for my heart to bear, to the point that I'm not even listening to it as of now and I'm already crying just at the thought. Sung by Denise Misseri it's a masterpiece, but sung by Valeria Caponnetto it's the greatest tragic song ever.

[witch-cub-blog]

105 Witchcraft Asks

1. Are you solitary or in a coven? Solitary! 2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other? I don't know at this point... But I don't follow the Wiccan religion, I can tell you that much. 3. What is your zodiac sign? Leo Rising and Taurus Moon! 4. Do you have a Patron God/dess? Nah. 5. Do you work with a Pantheon? Nah. Used to, though! 6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or any other kind of divination? Yes, I do! I use tarot cards, palmistry, pendulum divination, and Futhark runes! I also use coin divination, though I want to get into scrying. 7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any) Rosemary, sage, and bay leaves! 8. How would you define your craft? Messy? Haha. All over the place. 9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do? Oh, yes I do. Names are power, and if you've pissed me off, you better hope I don't know yours. 10. How long have you been practicing? 13 months and 11 days! 11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars? Yes! I used to have a crow familiar, but he's since moved on, I think. Right now, I kind of consider a stuffed dragon of mine I enchanted my familiar. 12. Do you believe in Karma or Reincarnation? Reincarnation? Yes. Karma? /shrugs/ 13. Do you have a magical name? I don't know what that is, so I'm going to go with nah. 14. Are you “out of the broom closet”? To all family members and close friends. 15. What was the last spell you performed? I enchanted a plush to give to my mother for Valentine's Day! 16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable? Not at all haha 17. Do you write your own spells? I do! Most of the spells I do are of my own creation, actually. Normally on the spot. 18. Do you have a book of shadows? If so, how is it written and/or set up? I call it my grimoire, and its a tag on my blog. 19. Do you worship nature? Worship? No. Honor? Yes. 20. What is your favorite gemstone? Rose quartz! 21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work? Not yet, but I want to so bad... 22. Do you have an altar? Yes! It's my favorite part of the bedroom. 23. What is your preferred element? Fire, but only because I'm a Leo and I'm biased. 24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist? Nah. 25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch? Not yet, though that might change if I research into it more. 26. What got you interested in witchcraft? It's kind of hereditary, actually? My step mom was a witch and she introduced it to me, and my eldest sister was a Wiccan. 27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch? Yes! I've made a charm for my sister while she was with me. (Not the Wiccan one.) 28. Have you ever used ouija? No, but I'd like to! 29. Do you consider yourself a psychic? I don't think my psychic skills are honed enough to give myself such a title, but I do have skills. 30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it? Everyone has one, but I don't know who or what they are yet. 31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started? "You don't have to rush into it." 32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite? Kind of? I acknowledge them and bake to celebrate, but I don't know enough yet to actually properly celebrate them. 33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children? If they asked me to, yes! But I wouldn't hide it from them, if that's what you mean. 34. Do you meditate? All the time. 35. What is your favorite season? Autumn or Spring! 36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform? Charms and enchantments! 37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life? I carry charms with me, pray at every oppurtunity, throw up wards and cleanse myself nearly anytime I feel I need to. 38. What is your favorite witchy movie? The Witches of Eastwick 39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why? I don't think I have one? Every witchy fiction book I've read is super gimmicky and I haven't read a non-fiction one. 40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not. I cleansed my room with essential oils and cleared out the bad energy! It was successful. 41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you? A spirit impersonated the gods I worshipped at the time. 42. What is your favourite type of candle to use? Plain white pillar candles! 43. What is your favorite witchy tool? My deck of tarot cards that I made <3 44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools? ^^^ Also runes. 45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits? Spirits, yes! 46. Do you practice color magic? Trying to incorporate it into my practice, yes. 47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind? Not really? I'm self-taught. 48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies? Going to Dollar Tree, Walmart, thrift stores. Amazon is nice, too. 49. Do you believe in predestination or fate? Mmhm! 50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice? I just roll my sleeves up, blow the metaphorical dust off of my energetic center, and do a simple, low-spoons spell! Or I meditate and try to manipulate the energy of something around me or myself to keep those muscles strong. 51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences? Mmhm! 52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve? Gatekeeping witches or spirit workers. Pretentious people in general. Thinking witchcraft is a closed off, exclusive club. 53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent? Haven't used it yet, but I'd like to! 54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind? Mmhm! 55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster? Trying to conjure spirits on my own. Without wards. 56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success? Breeching my own expectations. 57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about? Well, if you were to walk into my room, you would see dried candle wax. Ev. ery. Wh. Ere. Plus, how passionate I am about it. 58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too? DUH! It's not an exclusive club! 59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work? Oh yeah. It's to be feared and respected. 60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain? Nah. I am myself, and I am capable of anything I set my mind to. 61. What is something witch related that you want right now? The Wild Unknown tarot deck, more crystals, more altar decorations-- Lots of stuff. Also a faery garden! 62. What is your rune of choice? /clutches self-made bag of runes to my chest/ Don't make me choose. 63. What is your tarot card of choice? Death! Bet you saw that one coming. 64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite? Yes! I really love Mint. I love Mint everything. Or Patchouli! 65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses? Nah. 66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public? Used to! 67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch? Nah. 68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines? Nah, but I'd like to. 69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft? Of course! Historical context is super important. 70. What are your favorite things about being a witch? The idea that I am not like everyone else, that I have a deeper understanding of the world around me. That I am capable of amazing things, things even the most intelligent mundane could never understand. 71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch? How expensive it can be :'( 72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band? THERE IS PAGAN MUSIC. WHAT. SOMEONE GIVE ME RECCOMENDATIONS SCREAMS 73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how? No? Those are a thing? Jeez I need to do more research. 74. Do you ever work skyclad? ???? No? What is that??? 75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how? Mmhm! I think it's helped me grow and better myself. It's helping to pull me out of my depression because I have something to do that's constructive! Plus, it just makes my house feel so much nicer. 76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice? Other witches here on Tumblr! :3c 77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc) Of course! 78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol? Everytime I make a new one, I'm temporarily in love with it lmao 79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not? No, but I want to try it one day! I think it would add a personal connection and increase the power of the spell, since we witches are such powerhouses. 80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice? Oh, hell no. If you don't accept me for everything I am, you don't deserve me. /flips hair/ 81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow? I want to be a better Death witch... :'( I want to be more involved in mortality and visit graveyards and take care of bones and hides and not just twiddle my thumbs and dream about it. 82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice? Pumpkin spice! No, not really. 83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it? Set up wards, cleanse myself and my space, and light some candles. 84. What real life witch most inspires your practice? All of you lovely witches on Tumblr! 85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity? Divination! I like getting clear answers :/ 86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients? I wish I organized them better tbh. I just keep it all on my altar, though I'm working on getting a spice rack or something. 87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of? My old step mom and my eldest sister. 88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it? Trial and error, trying new things and applying what I liked. I think it's unique because I made it, really. I can only feel the way about it that I do, I can only do it exactly like I do. It's unique to me. 89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they? I've always been sensitive to spirits and extremely empathetic. 90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven? You can initiate yourself. Don't be pretentious, guys. 91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought? A bunch of pretty rocks, herbs (sage and rosemary), and a bottle of mint essential oil. 92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been? My eldest sister's house. I swear to God there had to be a faery ring or something nearby. 93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities? Research, and trial and error! Just introduce yourself, spend some time researching and praying, find out what works for you. Not every deity is going to mesh with you, and you won't mesh with every deity. 94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation? Binaural beats or music! I have to lay down, I can't sit up and meditate. 95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it? I'd say it came easily, though it takes a bit for me to concentrate and not let my ADD ass wander off. 96. Do you prefer day or night? Why? Night. Energy flows so much easier under the moon, and spirits are more abundant! 97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work? Whenever you feel like it, wherever you are most comfortable 98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly? I felt a little giddy! I stumbled a bit, but it worked out. 99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice? Oh no way. It gets harder the more you learn, but its super rewarding. 100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces? Hard to say, really. 101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy? Yep! 102. What is your favorite color and why? Mint or teal! Because its pleasing. 103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond? "Oh that's so interesting! What's it like?" I usually say: "Thank you! And it's not as crazy as it sounds. It's pretty simple, actually. Just a lot of salt slinging and shouting." 104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest? None of them are particularly strong, to be honest. I'm hindered by a lot of things, though I think that my intuition is pretty sharp. 105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice? USE WARDS. I forget too often.

@prettyalice13