#no pointy little herbs

[ttngummybear]

This is completely random, but I'm gonna post my texture sensitivity friendly tomato soup recipe here that I made out of desperation one night.

This soup is great when you're tired or sick, and is so so good with a grilled cheese or garlic bread.

Bit of a warning: The recipe is written in american measurements because it's what I've got to work with. Sorry :(

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Ingredients:

1 14.5 ounce can of pre-seasoned tomatoes. (I used Del monte basil, garlic, and oregano tomatoes)

4 Tbsp butter.

1 Cup + 1 Tbsp of milk. (I haven't tested this recipe with non-dairy milks and am not sure if it'd work. Sorry about that.)

1 Tbsp olive oil.

3/4 Cup of water.

1 tsp powdered bouillon. Chicken, beef, or vegetable.

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Notes:

You can use heavy cream in place of milk. If you do, remove 2 of the tablespoons of butter and skip adding any butter in step 5.

You can use canned tomatoes that are not pre-seasoned or fresh tomatoes, but you should season them yourself before you crush and cook them. This gives the soup flavor.

If your tomatoes do not have any juice, you must add some so the tomatoes can boil and soften in it.

You can add onions or other vegetables, but they must be softened like the tomatoes so they can puree well. This is what makes it good for texture sensitivity!

The 10 minutes of cooling after cooking is very important- blending hot liquids can cause your blender to pop open and spray you. Do not skip this!

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Pour the juice from the tomatoes into a small pot. Crush the tomatoes with a spoon or other tool and add them to the pot. Once all the tomatoes and juice are in the pot, add 2 Tbsp butter and cook on high for 10 minutes. Stir often.

Mix the bouillon into the water. Add the mixture to the pot and mix it up well. Then, cook it on medium heat for 15 minutes. Mix often.

Remove the pot from the heat and let it cool for 10 minutes. While it cools, add the olive oil and mix it up well.

Put the cooled mixture into the blender. Blend until completely smooth.

Pour the blended mixture back into the pot. Add all the milk and the remaining butter. Heat on medium until the butter is melted and season to taste with salt and pepper.

[captain039]

Part 6 The lords servant

Astarion x reader

Warnings: plus size reader, light swearing, vampire things, sexual, first times, eventual smut, harassment, sexual harassment, angst, past abuse, past trauma

Previous part <-

You had decided to stay, though things were different now, he didn’t make you clean, cook or check over things in the house. You were more of a guest now than servant, he gave you your own room despite your words of not needing it. He insisted greatly, saying you could decorate as you pleased. He wished to go with you to the shops so he could show you the best places for silks and blankets, clothes and perfumes. It saddened you, he had this glint in his eye of wanting to explore this new bond you shared to its fullest, only to be stopped by the sun. You didn’t go shopping, you kept your clothes simple with the ones you had packed, though it made him huff saying he wished to lavish you in wonderful things. You would just shake your head and say you were happy with what you had, he would pout like a child and it would make you laugh though. Honestly you were scared to buy new clothes, you’d have to be sized and measured, you didn’t want the scrutiny of some seamstress judging your body, you also felt wrong for such beautiful things to be waisted on your body, but the lord didn’t need to know that.

You were rather lost in thought, thinking back to your family when you felt arms around your waist and a head bury in your neck. Had you not recognised the soft curls and smell of your lord, you would’ve slapped them. You simply smiled as he pressed light kisses to your neck humming gently.

“What’s my little pup thinking about so deeply?” He asked and you shrugged lightly.

“Just home, well, where I grew up” you muttered frowning lightly. You were still off with the whole touching thing, you stepped out of his hold turning to look at him instead making him frown lightly.

“Tell me about it?” He asked head tilted slightly in question.

“It’s really boring and depressing” you chuckled but the laughter didn’t reach your eyes.

“Nothing about you is boring my dear, please, I’m all pointy ears” he grinned lightly and sat making you huff with a smile.

“My mother was named witch of the town, my father was in trades, he wasn’t home often. My mother was good with potions and alchemy, not really any magic in her unless she tried hard enough. She was, well she was odd to caught up in her old books to really see what was happening around her” you sighed.

“Too busy to see what was happening to me” you added quietly as the lord kept his attention on you fully.

“Like I said I’d get bullied a lot and beaten, she’d never notice, I’d try to tell her and she’d mumble something about a potion or herb before going back into her room, when i tried to tell my father he’d either pretend to be too busy or just ignored me, it was really just me growing up, and the donkey we had” you chuckled at the last part remembering.

“His name was Al, short for Albert, I loved him so much, id talk to him, sounded like a mad child now” you shook your head with a smile.

“He was too dumb though, didn’t know what was what and died out in the woods from a bear” you grimaced at the memory of finding him.

“I knew i had locked the gate that night, somebody opened it” you huffed.

“Bastards” the lord said frowning.

“I found him torn to shreds, horrible sight for a youngen” you shuddered.

“My parents didn’t care obviously, just told me to go work the barn, there was nothing in the barn to work with though so I just read books” you shrugged looking to him.

“Hopefully your parents were better than mine, I mean they did raise you” you smiled before it faded. His eyes went blank, his lips drawn into a thin line.

“I’m sorry-“ you stuttered as he stood, you began to panic as he simply left making you sigh. Even a hint about asking about his past he’d shut down and leave, maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he was a mystery to you, you knew nothing about him and he knew your life story.

You wandered around the mansion, exploring the rooms you could go in, wandering the library before finding a book and settling down. When dinner came you headed to the kitchen, smelling some delicious stew. You got looks from the servants now though, you grabbed some food and left back to your room passing the lords on the way. You froze though seeing one of the servants against the wall, his head in their neck. He was feeding, just with less activity now, but their moaning and fingers in his curls made your stomach churn with jealousy before you stormed back to your room. Of course he had to fed how stupid could you be. You packed your room if possible there would be an angry dark cloud above your head. Gods you felt so stupid, caught up in this new love. You groaned in frustration wanting to throw something breakable before you heard knocking. You took a quiet breath before opening the door seeing the lord there, not a drop of blood on his face.

“Evening my dear” he said and you wanted to scoff.

“I wish to be left alone” you said as nice as you could with a smile and he frowned.

“Are you not feeling well?” He asked and you felt like slapping him.

“Yes, just a bit feverish, I’m going to bed early, goodnight my lord” you said curtly and gave a small bow before closing the door. You clenched your jaw and fisted your hands before sitting by your desk.

Astarion stood confused outside your door, you didn’t look feverish to him. His mouth was bitter with the servants blood, he simply needed to feed, nothing more, however the servant had other plans moaning against him. It made him growl in annoyance, but they only took it as a spur and continued. He couldn’t handle it so he forced them away seeing the confusion. You had pressed about his past again, you told him about your past and he kept his hidden in the shadows where it belonged, the invisible collar around his neck tugging in reminder. He wouldn’t bring you into that, wouldn’t let his past consume you like it has everything else, not when you were this light in his life. When he first spotted you he’d never seen something so divine and swore on getting a taste, however that proved difficult. His usual charms and flattery didn’t work on you, you had high walls and something held you back. Gods know he saw red when those bastards touched you, saw the fear in your eyes, he almost slit their throats and drank them dry there and then had you not been there. He meant what he said when he would kill them, but your too kind heart didn’t see it fit. When you entered his room after days of him not feeding and being in his bed he hurt you. He felt nothing but hunger as the sweetness of your blood flowed into his body for the first time. It made him shudder till he realised what he had done. He’d been so close to having you, after his brood he swore he was going to have you, but you came in, checking on him like a wounded animal. Where the hell was Daenan? He’d tear into him later, right then, he was chasing you through Baldurs gate and into an alleyway, your blood tingling on his tongue. He’d taken too much and your burst of escape caused you to pass out against him. He hated being out in the city, it was too exposed, too many eyes in the shadows. He hastily got home with you in his arms, his guards giving him odd looks before he sneered at them. Your unconscious form made his heart stir for the first time in 200 years, you looked at peace, not like the gut wrenching fear from before. He stayed by your bed, held your hand made sure you were comfortable before you finally awoke. He had gone back to check on you only to find you weren’t there and his panic settling in. He saw the balcony doors open though and sighed seeing your form lit in the moonlight. Gods what a sight, you almost glistened in light, the wind gently blowing through your hair and white robe, you looked like a goddess. When you kissed him he felt like his heart leapt out his chest, your desperateness and needy noises made him crave you, though this was probably the first time you’d ever initiated a kiss from someone. Seeing you smile and giggle softly made him swoon like a young vampire again, hearing you say you’d stay made his heart leap. He’d been too excited he knows that now, giving you your own room, wanting to buy you dresses, silk sheets and blankets, perfumes, anything good gold could buy. It made you uncomfortable, he saw the way you’d look to the ground and gently shake your head with a small thank you. You weren’t from this life, a simple village girl with no one, but herself, he craved you though, craved your touch, craved your lips, your blood. He fed more regularly, trying to rid of the cravings he felt, but it never worked. He felt how you’d shy away from his touch and keep a safe distance should you need to run. He’d broken trust and he was trying to hard to get it back, for the first time in 200 years he didn’t know what he was doing, he didn’t know how to win your affections, it seemed so simple when doing it for ‘him’.

Next part ->

Taglist:

@worryknotdear

@curlycarley

@sleepy-time-dreamy

@violet-19999

@hexqueensupreme

@brainz00

@perseny

@queenofangrymoths

@aeryntheofficial

@scarlettwitcher

@pixiedust727

@mheerdraws

@innergardentoadpony

@vivian318

@turmoil-ash

@queenies1x1

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

March Week 1 - Symbolism and Traditions

Okay, now that we've got all the generalized types of magic out of the way, let's take a look at some other topics that will help us fill in the gaps in things. We'll be looking at symbols, traditions both personal and ancestral, spell and ritual design and much more! Let's buckle up and get to it!

Monday - Alphabets and Runes

Research - Look up different alphabets that have been used in magical traditions. Anything from the Elder Futhark Rune language, to the Ogham Script, to any other form of writing that has been used in any tradition. Do you know another language? Have you ever made your own alphabet or cipher? There are some grimoires that are written in an entire code that only the person who wrote it understood! If you feel like doing so, you can do the same! Look up an alphabet of any kind and write out a translation of those into the alphabet you know. For fun, write out at least one page in that other alphabet!

Research/ New Page - Runes - Is there a rune set you already know? Elder Futhark? Ogham? Another rune set? Have you ever made your own runes? Define rune. What is a rune? What makes something a rune? In both the magical and mundane sense, what are they? If you find a type of runes that you wish to learn, do so! Make a list of the runes themselves, then write out the meaning and symbology of each one!

Practical - Make a set of the runes you research or are already familiar with! Use what you have on hand! It could be as simple as strips of cardstock with the runes on them, notecards with the rune on one side and description on the other, or feel free to find a set online or in a store! You can even go outside and just find some stones and use a sharpie to write the runes on them!

Divination/ Journal - if you perform divinations, use your new runes to do so! And journal about the experience!

Tuesday - Languages

Research/ New Page - Is there a language that you don't speak or that no one really speaks, like Latin, and look into the basis of that language. Where does it come from? What is the language's base? Are there different dialects? Find an accurate translator and look up the words for some of your magical terminology. Make a list of those words to use in spells, incantations and prayers later on. Now, take it a step further. What is your ancestry? What languages has your family spoken in the past? Ask your parents, grandparents and other relatives if they still speak it at all. Get a little family history lesson. Having this connection to your lineage and ancestry can help you better understand a lot about yourself, your family, and traditions you may not realize you are practicing or performing regularly!

New Page - along with the list of words and languages, keep a page with the basic info you discover about your ancestry and family history! It could come in handy for a multitude of things, both pertaining to this challenge and life in general! This page could include traditions, recipes, where you come from, splits in the family, and general family history.

New Page - Pick another herb from your list and research it! Magical, mundane, medicinal, associations, myths and legends, how to grow and propagate it, where it comes from and its history!

Wednesday - Other Symbols

Research - What are some other common symbols that are commonplace within witchcraft circles? What are they, what do they represent? What are they used for? Do you use any of them without meaning to? What is their history? Where do they come from? Think about things commonly associated with withcraft. Cauldrons, brooms, pointy hats, black cats... why are these things associated with witchcraft? Don't just go with the first thing you find when you look this up, dig deep, do research. Are there multiple sources that confirm these things?

Personal/ Introspection - What things do you associate with witchcraft and why? It can be anything from tools you're using, to symbols, to specific herbs and gems or grander things/ ideas like the moon or certain practices.

Research/ New Page - Pick another gemstone or other item you want to research the witchy/ magical uses of and get at it!

Thursday - Traditions

Research/ New Page - Think about the conversations and research you did into your family lineage and language. Carry on with that research and look into the traditions your family has. Everything from when they gather together for things and why, to the recipes they make, to the way they pray or worship, to how they do things in general. Are there any beliefs your family has that have been passed down to you about things like luck? Or love? What wisdom has been passed down to you by your family?

Journal/ Introspection - Do you have any traditions that you practice on your own? Think about the things you celebrate and why, as well as when you celebrate them. Are there certain ways you do things? Everything from cooking to cleaning, to more spiritual practices! Feel free to make a page dedicated to your personal traditions. Recording them can help you to change and grow them over time, or even just to pass them along to your own family!

Friday - Catch Up Day

Today is a catch up day. We've had a lot of information and research prompts thrown at us the last three months, so take today to look back at any of the prompts you have missed or one you want to continue working on!

Alright! There's March week 1 everyone! Good luck and happy crafting witches!

-Mod Hazel

[0ncem0re]

yandere witch (she/he) x tall elf reader (they/them)

a/n: deleted a bunch of posts and now we're writing this shit. eeeeeee.

Rain bore down on the village of Solim, where a young witch was packing any needed supplies. It was a short trip, supposed to be anyways, to a spot in the forest where he could harvest the akoyenne he had lost when she had gotten a bit too into her chants. It was like she could feel the embrace of his gods!

Although disheartened due to having to restart the ritual, she felt invigored and ready to go. He took a deep breath, grabbed his lantern, and stepped out into the storm. The winds pulled him this way and that while the rain soaked him to the bone as she entered the forest.

Under the cover of trees on the already dim day, the light of her lantern didn't help as much as she had hoped but it was better than nothing. She walked across the muddied earth and the wet leaves until he saw it, and more significantly, he saw them.

There they were, picking the delicate little flower with their careful hands of which dwarfed the flower. They were graceful despite the biting wind and cold rain, seemingly unperturbed by it. And the he saw their ears: pointy. She froze as her eyes locked with theirs.

Slowly the elf rose to their feet and walked toward him, towering over the witch. "Are you cold?" They questioned. Their voice was gentle and flowed like the wind, with the wind. They were one with the surroundings, further exemplified when he was brought to their home not too far off.

It was a small, den-like cottage built into a hillside. Just walking in was enough to take the edge off but her bones truly warmed when she was guided to the fireplace and given a blanket. "I'll prepare some tea for you momentarily. ...And as the storm's not due to let up anytime soon, perhaps I'll fix us up some soup."

The young witch looked on at the elf's home. Just a single room where each space on the wall and each piece of furniture told the young witch that this elf was self-sustaining. He noticed an abundance of herbs and flowers stored, all of them either used for dishes or medicine. "Thank you..."

It made his breath hitch and the pace of his heart hasten when the elf smiled down at him, "Y/n, my name is y/n. And you're welcome, little human. What are you called?"

She gulped, "I-I'm Eoin." She chided herself. How could he be so taken by them? Sure, they were beautiful...ethereally so, and the way they moved was with such elegance, and they were being so very kind to her. He gripped his tea cup a little tighter, steady her mind. "So, uh, what were you doing out in the forest?"

The way y/n looked at him made him feel...vulnerable. She questioned if this was an innate power that elves such as they held. She had only seen a band of them from a distance while at a market, they too were quite enchanting but this one...they were more than enchanting, they were entrancing.

For hours the pitter-patter of rain accompanied their conversation. Everything was so easy with y/n. Eventually, the young witch succumbed to the comfort, last hearing the elf's sweet laugh as they covered her with a blanket.

He stretched and grumbled as sunlight shone upon his face. "Good morning, Eoin."

He startled before falling into relaxation, it was y/n. She smiled, "Good morning, y/n." She was handed a basket. She blinked and asked about it.

"You said you went out looking for akoyenne. I wanted to help you along," they began folding laundry. It seems they had been busy that morning.

The witch laughed nervously, "You want me gone so soon, y/n?" How could they though? They were getting along so swimmingly.

Their eyes dilated, "Yes. I've got things I need to do. There's only so much time I can put them off."

"I-I can help you!" she blustered. "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to go home, little human. Your gods are waiting for you, are they not?"

In a moment, her hands were encircling their upper arms as she stared up at them in utter reverence, "You're my new god! You're earthen and graceful and...gorgeous." His breathing was heavy and his sight too unfocused to notice the discomfort of the elf, "I worship you now."

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

How the guys would react to a witchy s/o

Leo

kind of brushes it off when you first mention it

doesn't really fully believe in that kind of thing

also it scares him a little

so when he sees you reading tarot or cleansing or anything witchy he kinda just- oop didn't see that

that is, until you come to him with a bad feeling

"Leo, I was doing a tarot and pendulum reading, please be safe tonight. It's suggesting something bad is going to happen to you"

as always, he brushes it off, just superstitious nonsense to him

that is, until he gets hurt kinda bad that night on patrol

after that he's a little more open to your beliefs and even sometimes asks for a reading

Raph

ok for some reason he finds it really funny that you're a witch

all of the typical jokes about did you get to the lair on your broomstick and why'd you leave the pointy hat at home...

honestly it starts to get a little disrespectful

so you take matters into your own hands...

a little jinx never hurt anyone too much

so that night when you're in bed and Raph is trying to take things to next level....He can't.

"This has never happened to me before, I swear. I don't know what's up with me"

you just grin at him

he's so confused but eventually he works it out since it happens every night that week

he holds your practice in higher esteem from then on.

Mikey

Oh he wants to know everything

what each tarot card means, the correspondences of each herb and crystal, what moon phases do

he's all ears

even asks if you need help in certain spells

whenever he's out on patrol and sees a feather lying on the ground or a particularly cool rock he always brings it back for you

gets you to enchant his baking so it has no calories

you hated to break it to him that that's not how magic works...

Donnie

not really phased by it

I mean, he doesn't really believe in it but he doesn't not believe in it. he's a giant turtle man after all, what isn't possible?

does enjoy when you use herb infused oils on him, especially for massages. you normally use the sleep oil right before bed and he's out like a light.

very interested in the history side of your practice.

where runes came from and their meanings, astrology shit, the orogin of sigils ect

he's pretty supportive honestly.

[suicidalgamergirl]

Emotional Support Vampire

Finally I get our vamp boy to arrive. Credits of this chapter are from this Fan Wiki.

https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Rite_of_Profane_Ascension

*****

“Vaness,” a voice chilled, “the worst a man can get.”

Not this. She did not want this.

She turned around, seeing her parents. They were giving disapproving looks at her.

“We made you go to a great university,” her parents said, “then you wasted it all on your ridiculous doodles in your notebook! You are such a disappointment.”

She wanted to scream. She wanted to reason with her parents. But nothing came out from her lips.

She then saw Ken looking at her.

“Dumb ugly bitch,” Ken stated, “too annoying for even a lay.”

She put her hands on her ears, trying to stop the voices.

But they wouldn’t stop. She found herself standing on a stage, confronting an audience that started heckling and hollering at her. Cowering, she still had her ears covered. Why were people like this?!

She was an adult! Their voices should mean nothing! She doesn’t have to listen to them!

“Die,” a voice rang to her as a command.

After hearing that word, the audience started chanting that simple three letter word. 

Die. Die. Die.

Kneeling on the stage, she felt a noose was placed around her neck. Maybe this was going to be how it must end. Everyone was right about her. 

She smelled a fragrance lingering around her as the noose was tightening around her neck.

Bergamot, a sweet lemony bitter orange. 

Rosemary, a herb she used in her cooking class to stuff meats that were going to be cooked. Also used for protection against demons.

And Brandy?

The hell?!

*****

The scent of that strong liquor woke her up. She had tears running down her eyes. She hated having nightmares. They made her feel childish. Made her feel like a failure as an adult. Made her feel that she deserved a pathetic life.

“Gods darling,” a voice said, “you’re finally awake.”

Darling? The minute she heard that, she flung herself out of the bed and fell on the floor.

Trying to get herself together, she stared at her bed. There was a pointy eared, skin as snow, and white haired gentleman with red eyes, looking at her. He is wearing a fancy embroidery outfit that has a set of red dragons across his vest. 

Wait a sec…

Pointy ears, red eyes, and pale skin complexion?

Holy shit! There was a certified vampire in her bed! She wasn’t going to be a juicebox today. She stumbled to get herself up. She didn’t have crosses and rosaries. Nor the occasional garlic. 

But she had one thing that could easily make this intruder meet his match.

The sun.

Heading to the bedroom window, she was finally going to take control of her life. She pulled on the curtains to reveal the glorious beams of the sunlight to fall on her bed. This vampire had finally met his match. He is going to become literal toast.

Nothing happened.

“You know darling,” he mused as he lay on her bed, “you could have been a little more creative with your death threats. Is this honestly how you treat your guests?” 

“Well e-excuse me!” she replied, “It’s not like I expect my guests to lunge at my neck at any minute! Or goes nuts after a simple papercut!” 

“Touche. Though, this is all your fault by the way. You just have to accept the consequences of your actions.”

“My actions? I tried to help…”

She stopped as she was dumbfounded by her words. That albino bat she found. Poor little thing that was being attacked by mean dogs that didn’t know any better. The little bat that was annoyed with her while she was taking care of his wounds. 

She fell on her knees, eyes still wet from her tears. What a dumbass.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said.

“Finally admitting your mistakes is on the path of self improvement,” he replied as he was starting to mock himself as a therapist, “you humans are very stupid at times. It might have been a miracle your species survived a millennium without them blowing the planet up.”

This was going to be a very long and interesting weekend.

[theluckywizard]

WIP Whenever

Thank you for the tag @greypetrel

Well I just finished up my spicy art of Hawke and Rose for an upcoming chapter so I suppose that doesn't count! But here's a bit of Rose Trevelyan being nosy around the Hawke Estate while the man she's just been introduced to, Garrett Hawke is out having a street fight (LOL! Weird!) with some dwarf associate!? I love working on this scene because it's a great opportunity for easter eggs and just generally a great character reveal for both Rose and Hawke in my Kiss Me Moonstruck AU (matchmakingmoms!au).

Snippet below the cut 👇

In a closet beyond is an extra set of mail and an assortment of gambesons and maintenance tools and equipment. Awls and oil. Garrett’s finery from earlier hangs on a hook. Feeling venturesome and more than a little nosy, Rose leans in to get a whiff of this man she’s meant to like enough to marry.

Peppermint, obviously. Camphor. And buried underneath are hints of herbs she can’t quite distinguish. Elfroot probably. Rashvine and spindleweed perhaps. She startles at a sudden contact between her thighs, stumbling back from her insolent task to discover Garrett Hawke’s mabari has an equally insolent interest in her.

She shoves him back gingerly and with placating tones, unsure if a war dog would be friendly toward an interloper like herself. He’s three times the size and heft of any of her hunting hounds, and his undocked tail lashes and whips with enthusiasm when she scratches tentatively behind his ears.

“Well aren’t you persistent,” she mutters, attending to the short fur of his broad white chest. She carefully avoids the precarious string of slobber that dangles from his maw and returns to the foyer hoping the creature will settle down by the fire again. He doesn’t. Enthralled by the attention, he stays at her heels, following her over to an apparent writing desk.

It’s been recently tidied she notes, a pile of mail sits to one side with all the edges lined up, and there's a cup of distinctive looking quills, pencils and a rustic looking pen knife and a fresh supply of fine paper. In spite of the paper there’s a stack of half crumpled notes in another corner that someone did their best to organize.

Rose picks up a rumpled note written in a lively hand over the top of a torn out piece of broadsheet.

Emeric. Thursday, 8 o’clock. Follow up with Aveline. 

The wall above it is unceremoniously papered over with various letters, missives and documents and a sloppily carved slab of wood reads Wall of Fame.

Rose first reads a desperate sounding letter written in a primitive but decidedly feminine hand to Carver— his younger brother, she presumes— by an individual named Peaches. There’s a printed document with a flaming fist stamped in the corner about mage rights and the Maker. A badly drawn caricature of a man armored in absurdly pointy plate asking what she presumes to be a darkspawn for directions. And a well designed advert clipped from the news:

BARNABUS BIRD Purveyor of Fine Blades ══════════════════ Kitchen Knives ✧ Utility Knives ✧ Murder Knives ══════════════════  Slice Fereldan cheese paper thin! ✦ Cut unexpected bindings on your hands and feet! ✦ Clean the blood from your fingernails!

The address listed belongs to this very home.

LOL this last thing is one of Varric's many pranks on Hawke (they are trapped in a forever prank war). It's also an easter egg for my long fic.

Tagging @crackinglamb, @bluewren, @samseabxrn, @nirikeehan, @leggywillow, @exalted-dawn-drabbles, @ammoniteflesh, @skyeventide and YOU. Whatcha working on?

[home-of-renn]

Sam loved spending time at the Addam's abode. She loved the shadows that lurk at her back and the dark gloomy clouds that perpetually linger. She loved the sound of the creaking staircase and the murder of crows that nest in the cemetery out front.

She loved Thing's stash of macabre poetry and uncle Fester's giddy sense of humour and Lurch's talent for playing the piano. She loved Morticia's grace and allure - the exact opposite of her own mother's saccharine poise.

But out of all the members of the Addams family, it's Grandmama Frump who's got a special place in the depths of Sam's inky black heart

She positively adored the batty old witch, who had a wide array of hobbies and interests. From cooking and knitting to witchcraft and candle making, she was a woman of many talents.

Sure, she had one or two screws loose, but Sam had been hanging around the Fenton's since second grade and the Addamsses don't store ghosts in soup thermoses.

Grandmama Frump kept marbles and mothballs in her pockets and was a serial collector who loved showing off. She'd once shown Sam her collection of prosthetic eyes, and when asked where, why and how, she'd replied that many of them had been gifted to her by a long-distance ex-boyfriend who'd lived in France.

She had piles and piles of books, many of which were coated in dust and at least a few centuries old. She had books on farming, sewing, child-rearing, sword fighting, fencing, herbology, sailing, tragedies and more. She had books on hexes and curses and brewing potions and poisons. Sam was particularly entranced by an ancient book bound in leather and filled with detailed drawings of plants, little creatures with pointy teeth and rhymes that could cure boils and headaches. It had been written by a young woman who'd been burned at the stake and Grandmama Frump claimed to have traded for it with a pair of good shoes and a bezoar from the stomach of a goat.

She was a fountain of knowledge, insisting upon teaching Sam how to whittle and speak in tounges. Most times Sam would find her hunched over a bubbling cauldron with fistfuls of dried herbs and an array of ornate daggers at her disposal.

She taught Sam how to wrap a broken bone, treat a rotten tooth and make a poultice to soothe blood blossom burns.

She had a tendency to lose her dentures and howl during full moons. She wore rings on every finger, each one of them carrying a different family curse.

She'd sit the whole family down by the fireplace and regal them with absurd tales and grim encounters, most typically dissolving into nonsense and rambles around halfway through.

She had a habit of slipping things into people's pockets when they weren't paying attention. From hard candies wrapped in parchment to little coloured vials filled with lethal concoctions. Sam once found a green vial the of colour jade, no bigger than the nail on her thumb, nestled into the folds of a scarf she had worn the entire afternoon and hadn't taken off once. Now she has an entire windowsill lined with odd little trinkets and colourful little bottles with corked lids and murky contents - the only pop of colour in her dark and dreary bedroom.

Tucker complained about the smell of incense and smoke, but Sam still carried around the bundle of twine and wax that was tied tight with a blood red string - a protection charm for her and her friends. She took it wherever she went and it never left her pocket, for Grandmama Frump had made her swear to never be without it.

[dilatorywriting]

idk if you plan to do any monster mayhem for the staff where reader is there age too but i am having SUCH a brainrot over monster crowley i have to share it

im just imagining hes similar to howls feathery monstrosity form except more Fae more thats his actual true form not a form of magic and he takes on a human form albiet one obvs non human due to the pointed ears and the feathers people swear up and down are in his hair and pn his shoulders like a feathered ruff bc all the shiny things humans have and interesting devices to make life easier!

the man definetely has like 838384 heated blankets for his bedroom that is more a nest than anything else lol and the one day he gets injured in his natural more beastly form and mc come across him and he thinks that this is it this is where he dies bc humans attack what they cant understand due to fear but instead this little human he could crush under his talons like a bug comes up and fusses over him ordering him to not move (as if crowley even could) and then leaves

but they come back with a bunch of medicinal stuff and patches him up and returns every day chattering away aimlessly at him as they changed the bandages and compliment how beautiful and shiny his feathers are and maybe theyre a healer or smth and mention a familar and the next day they come back they have a crow following them feathers glistening brightly in the sun cawing happily at mc and crowley is faced with the realisation that oh no hes become smitten with them at some point

and then once hes healthy again he starts showing up in his humanoid form at mcs little apothecary with random cuts or bruises from tripping or being attacked by stray cats that he totally couldnt have healed himself oh no! and everytime he slyly conpliments them and leaves something shiny they could keep or give their crow familiar or some bundle of rare herbs they mc was having trouble getting

and he just turns down all his admirers (that hed never paid attention to more then for the praise anyway) to instead lavish mc with attention bc theyd seen his true beastly form crowley had secretly been so sure no one could love which led him to indulging so much in his "human" life and had looked after him like he was something beautiful to be cherished and bow MC is like oh no i think im smitten

anyway i dont like crowley i swear i dont okay hes just hes just i DONT hes just pretty i dont like him i swear <- man helplessly in denial

I do indeed love the absolute horror nightmares that could come from Staff Monster Mayhem, and Crowley as some sort of demonic bird monstrosity is Peak. I do have to get a bit better with his personality I think before I dive into anything actual for him, because mostly I just write him as A Nuisance, when in reality he gives me vibes of being A Bigger Nuisance but also... not quite right? Like he's got pointy ears and glowing eyes. There's got to be some sort of weird, fae, bullshit going on with him. And in the words of Patrick Star, gotta 'firmly grasp it.' Because I'm still a bit lost on him

My thought honestly when I was debating something for the Staff was, like, a Mount Olympus sort of setup? Or maybe more specifically like a Hades (the game) sort of situation? With the MC as a sort of stand-in for Zagreus, receiving the guidance and blessing of all these all-powerful, very temperamental and moody, gods.

[feyhunter78]

Hey Hey!! How are you lovely? Could I be so polite and ask for #18 for a lovely little elf called Elrond please 🤭💗

Hello love!!!! I'm doing well! You most definitely can request #18 with our boy Elrond! It's a short and sweet little fic, and I hope you like it!

The Day's End

This crosses #18 off the list for Elrond!

You had been stressed all day, tomorrow was the midwinter feast and as the High-King’s most trusted event planner you had to make sure everything was perfect. You’d spent the day running back and forth making sure the chefs had all the ingredients they needed, making sure the tables and chairs were set up, and of course triple-checking the guest list.

Finally, the day was over, and you trudged back to your quarters ready to fall into bed and slip into a hopefully dreamless sleep. You pushed open the door, and a smile tugged at your lips as you saw Elrond look up from his desk.

“My starlight, finally you return.” He said, standing gracefully and making his way to you.

“Today was so chaotic, nothing was done right, and my head hurts.” You whined, all but falling into his arms.

He embraced you, hand supporting the back of your head as he kissed your forehead. “I am so sorry to hear that, would you like me to make you some tea for your headache?”

You nodded, and he eased you into his desk chair. You looked over the speech he was writing as you waited, making small edits.

“Y/N the day is done, you must rest, or you will not be at full strength tomorrow.” He gently chided, taking the quill from your hand, and replacing it with a teacup.

“I know, it is just that you had the wrong name in the speech, and I did not wish for you or the High-King to be embarrassed at the feast.”

Elrond gave you a soft smile. “You work too hard, I would have caught the name before giving Gil-galad the speech.”

You sipped the tea, letting out a sigh of relief as the herbs soothed your headache. “I am certain you would have, but I caught it now, so no matter.”

He shook his head fondly and laid on your shared bed, arms open for you. “Come lie with me. Let me hold you.”

“I would, but I am too busy. I just remembered I must speak with the head waiter, about when to serve each selection of wine.” You insisted, standing, even though all you wished to do was curl up in Elrond’s arms and sleep.

He sat up and reached for you, tugging you into his embrace. “You can speak with him tomorrow, you are too tired and, I fear, you shall fall asleep on your way to meet him.”

You couldn’t argue when his warmth enveloped you, your head falling back against the soft pillows of your bed. “I suppose you have a point. It is late, he will probably be asleep already.”

He chuckled, caressing your cheek. “He will be, most of the city is asleep.” His fingers carded through your hair. “Now rest my starlight, I will ensure you do not oversleep.”

You snuggled closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent, letting it wash over you and lull you to sleep. “Thank you, my love.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Of course, sleep well, y/n.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority

[greatgigintheskiess]

G/t July #10: Ancient

Yeah, I know I skipped the other days... but I wanted to participate anyway so here's a snippet for ya :P

Word Count: < 1 k

Finn couldn't even remember how he got lost. But there he was, aimlessly straying through the thicket. The boy was miles away from his home by now. And slowly but surely, he was losing hope to ever find a way back.

Looks like he has to find a place for the night. Bad thing was, he didn't carry any weapons to defend himself from wild animals. And his stomach was growling as he didn't eat anything today. He was so exhausted.

The boy kept on walking further in an unknown direction and for as long as his legs would carry him. Eventually, Finn spotted a path that led out of the forest and to some ancient ruins. He stood on a clearing, surrounded by abandoned remains from what might've been a castle once. The one he entered was so huge and enormous and, if he wouldn't know any better, he'd say even gigantic.

Soon Finn perceived a very pleasant smell and went after it. He was still so hungry. The boy found a room what appeared to be a kitchen, poorly furnished though. A cauldron stood in the middle, on the walls were shelves filled with different herbs and jars of wheat, pickled food and more. But the only odd thing about this was the size. Everything was huge in comparison to him.

Someone really tall must live here but giants only existed in myths and legends, right?

The child didn't hesitate long and climbed onto a table that stood beside the cauldron. There he found food almost as big as himself. But the boy went over to a plate and started eating as much as he could until a deep voice caught him off guard.

"Well well, look what we have here. Don't you think it's rude to just steal someone's food?"

The boy turned around and froze when he saw a giant talking to him.

But that's not possible! Giants are not real!

Finn wanted to say something but nothing seemed to come out of his mouth. He just stared at the old giant in fright.

"What's the matter, kid?" The giant asked with amusement. "Have you lost your tongue?

Eventually, Finn answered meekly. "I-i'm not looking for trouble. I'm sorry for d-disturbing you... I'll go right away!"

The boy already stepped a bit backwards and wanted to run over to the table's edge when he was scooped up by a pair of large hands.

"Wait a moment, I'm not done with you yet." The giant said and peered at the tiny boy in his hands. Finn was scared to the core. He already imagined how the giant would throw him in the cauldron and eat him with neck and crop. The boy shivered by the mere thought of what he could even do to him. Finn shielded himself with his trembling hands.

"Please, don't eat me! I didn't mean to steal!" The child pleaded, close to tears.

That's when he heard a loud deep laugh which completely confused him. Finn lowered his arms and saw the giant laughing amusedly.

What's so funny about it?

"I ain't gonna eat you, kid." He chuckled. "Just look at you, you're only skin and bones!"

Finn had no idea what was even going on here. He continued staring at the buff guy who laughed his head off. Suddenly the giant tilted his hands, causing the child to tumble on one palm. The giant placed the boy on a counter, where he had a good view of him.

"Hm, I'm starting to like you, little boy." He said with a cheeky grin. "What's your name?"

"It's…Finn."

The boy noticed pinning light eyes on him. He could see the giant's long dark hair, some strands braided, and his tied beard. Only now the boy realized he looked nothing like a regular human, telling by his pointy ears.

"Now, you probably heard of me, didn't you?" The giant stopped his train of thought.

But Finn had no idea what to say. So he just shook his head, feeling uncomfortable.

"No?" The giant gave him a disappointed look. "C'mon, toots. The giant of Eldham? Does that ring a bell?"

The boy rummaged in his mind. He could remember having heard about it but wasn't that just an old fairytale parents told their kids?

"Uhm, I guess. But I always thought it was just a legend." Finn replied awkwardly. He really just wanted to get away from here. But the giant seemed to think otherwise, continuing their little conversation.

"You see, it's not. And I haven't seen humans around in ages but somehow you found me here."

The giant rested his chin on his hand, stemming on the counter. Finn felt a warm breath on his skin, tousling his blond hair. As if this talk wasn't awkward enough, the boy heard his stomach growling loudly. His face turned crimson when the giant chuckled softly.

"You're hungry, aren't you, kid?" He uttered, handing him a piece of the food from the table. "Here, have a few bites."

The child peered a while at the offered food and eventually took it thankfully. Finn was hungry, indeed, so he could hardly refuse, couldn't he?

And besides, wasn't he looking for a place to eat and sleep before anyway?

But little did the boy know then, he would be in the company of an ancient giant. And if Finn told anyone about it, they would think he made this up.

[dragoncityinteriordesign]

As far as I can tell (and you know I looked for it), only once does Shen Wei specifically call his weapon 共工长刀 -- gònggōng chángdāo, or Gonggong long sword. A 共工长刀 is not a thing outside of Guardian, and he never explains why he calls it that.

While I can't be sure, I think it's a book/general mythology reference. Gonggong (共工) is a dragon who messes up one of the eight pillars holding up the sky, making Nüwa have to get out there and fix it. The dragon himself only gets one mention by name in the book:

[Zhao Yunlan] originally meant to write “Nuwa created people, mended the sky, and then transformed her body into Houtu, Fuxi created the big seal using the eight trigrams, Shennong sacrificed himself to taste hundreds of herbs, Gong Gong the mystical dragon struck Buzhou in anger” and the other information that were useful to his future self on the book. (from the Rainbow Se7en translation)

But if you've read it, you know Nüwa and Mt. Buzhou are important parts of the Kunlun side of the plot. It seems a little strange to have Shen Wei associated with bringing down the heavens instead of keeping them up, but like Da Shenmu in the university seal and colored stones in the coffee, I don't think it's that deep. Having it be named after a dragon also makes a lot of the pretty scale motifs in the design make more sense, to say nothing of, hey, why is this town even called Dragon City in the first place?

Despite the fact that it's a referred to as a "long blade" regardless of what it looks like at the moment, it comes in two different sizes: long and ... extra-long, I guess. (I know, the "long" is referring to the pokey part, not whole weapon, but let me make my funny.) From a prop standpoint, I'm pretty sure the two are the same blade with a grip that unscrews in the middle, right where the pointy little bronze dragon-tail at the bottom stops swooping back up.

...Also, it's not a 长刀. An actual changdao is a two-handed weapon about as tall as a person, with a much larger blade-to-handle ratio. I have an idea about that, though, so I'll be back to this in a bit.

[foxpostingalphax]

[It comes out of nowhere- a small twisting breeze carrying flower petals and the scent of jasmine aloft, dancing in the air and twisting around them in a miniature ballet. The petals are carried off into the wind and, if followed, lead to a sunny grove perfect for napping]

The astral animal is lazily lapping mouthfuls of water up by a clean looking puddle when the scent of jasmine draws their pointy nose from the ground to the air, almost seeming on autopilot at the distinct pull of a new smell.

Is that…

They know this scent… It’s not one they scent often, but it sticks out in their memory immediately against the familiar ambient aroma of the wildlife around them, evoking in the way herbs do, an easy, warm feeling of comfort that has them padding nimbly along before they even know it. Eventually finding themselves peering into the sun-kissed grove, the sight is stunning, in a subtle, natural way, and— Maybe it’s their inclination towards laziness leisure talking, but the out of place, but powerful scent and the flower petals to match leading them here feels like… A reminder. To lie down and settle for a little bit. Appreciate the little pockets of the world one finds themself in.

So… They do. Fyxen ambles deeper into this citron colored gem tucked away in this little corner of existence here, treading with light paws through the lush, sun warmed earth, they eventually find a patch of lush, fresh grass, large enough for them to practically roll onto and slide their body across until their limbs are stretched out luxuriously to soak up as much of the spring sunlight as they can, relishing the sights and sounds and smells of life both new and asleep awaken around them.

[a-vamp-and-a-half]

Odette holds up her toolkit in turn, giggling as she shuffles over quick as she can, plopping it down before him

“I got pointy needles! And-and magic herbs!” She says, pulling out normal sewing needles and little bottles she’d stuffed with dried flowers of her own making, a little magic kit of her own design

Blue nods in approval. "Let's take this all to my room so Neora does not have to see."

[sasha-uria]

Hey there! this is an project me and @misturearaposa (Mix) been working on and now is done ✨

Mix is the master mind behind this cozy and peculiar tale and i did the illustration of our main character.

Hope you enjoy 💖

Marsella’s office was a mess, as usual. Students’ essays and documents covered just about every surface of furniture. There was a wooden desk in front of the only window, illuminated half by the moonlight, half by an oil lamp that sat on top of it. One of the documents on top of this desk was an envelope with some writing in a dark green ink on it. It read “To the current Master at Ecological and Zoological Studies Regarding the Arcanum; Marsella Kampersois.” It clearly had been opened and most of the pages it previously contained were already being read by the professor. She brushed aside how tired she felt and tied her strawberry blonde hair behind her head so it would stop obscuring her reading. Marsella put the first page, which she had just finished glancing through, on the desk in front of her and continued on.

“Our guides are Onlen and Briannee, a local couple who live in a village just outside the Asheyran woods. Brianne is one of yours: Amantenese born and raised, but she moved here after her parents died and, eventually married Onlen. So I’m not that interested in her.”

A warm smile pushed through the exhaustion in Marsella’s face as she read that line. It was clear that her friend was still as blunt and socially “unique” as they were when she first met them.

“Mister Onlen himself, on the other hand, is fascinating! We always hear stories about how mysterious the Folkbound are but let me tell you Marsella: the stories do not do them justice! On our way to their village, we passed through a few Niamenese settlements, but none of them had Folkbound in them. So up until we met Onlen, the team and I had only seen the average person going about their day, not different in the slightest from you and me. I am sure you are curious, so I’ll just get it out of the way first: Yes, he does have them!”

Sketched just below this paragraph was what seemed to be a pair of human ears with pointy ends which slowly curled into something that resembled a short flower’s stalk.

“His canine teeth are also remarkably long and sharp, and his hair has a faint, but pleasant smell that I can’t quite describe. Brianne tells me he never takes baths, only cleans himself in the rain or under a nearby waterfall. He knows an awful lot about medicinal herbs and just plants’ properties in general. His behavior is certainly ‘normal’ most of the time, but sometimes he acts like a completely different person, with periodic mood changes to boot. Nothing too extreme, though.”

Marsella grasped the paper a bit more firmly and her eyes suddenly seemed completely devoid of the sleepiness they were presenting up until then. She saw briefly what the next paragraph started to describe and soon sat a bit more upright on her chair, excitement and curiosity taking over.

“As for his partner: we didn’t see it for more than two full days at first. He assured us it was around, but we never even got a hint of its presence. It wouldn’t be until we were finally preparing for our first deep foray into the woods that it showed itself. And what a sight it was! She was no more than 12 centimeters tall; her skin was a deep foliage green with some protuberances that resembled little thorns all over the legs, arms and back. She did not have wings per say, but instead a pair of cloak-like extensions from the back of her shoulders that resembled long and red silky petals. It was like looking at a walking rose. Her head, at least from the back and sides, also reminded me of a rose bud. I was never able to see her face, however, as she wore a tiny mask made of tree bark which was devoid of any distinct features or adornments. The first time we saw her was when the team was packing our provisions and Onlen came from the edge of the woods to check on us. She was sitting on his left shoulder, legs dangling in a cute, childish manner as he walked towards us. We were stunned, but Onlen never made any introductions or try to explain anything. He acted as if we had been seeing her the whole time. In fact, it was as if he thought we knew her our whole lives. As we made our way into the woods, he finally told us her name: Flian. Nothing more than that, however. None of us asked anything either. Mostly because it felt intrusive, but also because as much as no one on the team had personally seen one before, it isn’t like commons pixies are completely new and unknown in our field. As the time passed and we headed deeper into the woods, she would switch from riding on his shoulder to floating up from tree to rock and tree again, accompanying our pace from above. It’s quite a sight to behold. She really didn’t fly around exactly, it looked more like her little “petal cloak” was carried by a gentle breeze, allowing her to glide and float around. She also never made any sound. I don’t mean just vocalizations. Her movements, her breathing, nothing seemed to make any noise, even a small one.”

Marsella put the finished page on top of the desk and scribbled some notes on a journal that laid right beside the two pages she had finished. Before she could continue reading, however, she noticed that on a corner of the note she had just finished was a sketch of the pixie. She assumed she couldn’t see it before because it was being covered by her thumb and fingers as she held the paper. She took a good look at it and then continued on.

“Something that I noticed after a few hours is how, no matter what she was doing – whether it was floating around, walking on top of tree branches or splashing around in little puddles (still not making any sound while doing it.) She would ALWAYS land right back on Onlen’s shoulder whenever he and Brianne got closer, started whispering to each other, holding hands and so on. She’d always stay on the side of his body opposite to Brianne, though, and start grooming his hair, tapping his cheek and at one point I even saw her tickle his right ear after Brianne, to his left, almost tripped and supported herself on her husband. It didn’t seem to bother Onlen, however, as his reactions ranged from ignoring it to simply looking at her and making weird faces that I couldn’t interpret. At most he once turned to face the pixie and motioned a fake bite towards her, which made her jump off him for a second before landing right back again.”

Putting the papers aside for a moment, Marsella felt her exhaustion creeping in again. She pulled a bottle from one of the corners of the deks towards her and uncorked it. She looked around, searching for a cup amidst the mess of her office, and decided she could not be bothered to get up from her chair for a more thorough search. Bottoms up and she felt a warmth spread from her stomach to her chest and limbs, put the bottle on the desk again and though of sealing it with the cork again, before deciding to leave it open. She picked the papers again and continued to read.

“During our first night, our couple of guides told us a little bit about their lives, how they met, fell in love and all of that sappy stuff. I’ll spare you of that torture, something I wish someone could have done for me. Onlen did, however, sprinkle some interesting information here and there. His bonding with Flian happened when he was fourteen. A little late for the average Folkbound, as you know. Apparently he was a bit of a recluse as a kid and because of that it took him a little longer than most to actually find a Fae partner who’d actually bond with him. He said a year before he met Flian, he almost got bound to a lovely little toadstooler who used to cross his path now and again. But he tells me it bonded with a younger girl who lived close to him one day because she apparently gave it treats and sang to it. When he was telling this story - with a tinge of melancholic nostalgia in his face - I noticed Flian starting to look a bit agitated, fidgeting around on his shoulder. Brianne seemed to notice it too and her reaction fascinated me. She quickly flicked her husband’s forehead and made him change the subject or rather move on with his story. Her tone was playful, but I could see a hint of worry or apprehension in her face. Onlen told us that, eventually, he met a common pixie drowning in a pond and after rescuing her, she would visit him everyday until eventually, they were bound. The details aren’t uninteresting, but it was the known stuff for common pixies. They exchanged vows, she told him her name and she pricked his thumb on one of her thorns and it was done.”

Marsella made some more notes on her journal before taking another gulp from the bottle and continuing to read.

“The following morning we left the forest and the team made a quick trip to the nearest village to buy a few things. Briannee went with them and I stayed behind with Onlen. He did not speak for the whole day. In fact, I barely saw him save a couple of times. First when I was cooking a bit of soup a little after noon and he came out from his house, looked at me and my cooking pot as if he could not even begin to understand what I was doing, before going back inside. The second time was right before Briannee and my team were coming back. It was starting to get dark and I had barely noticed them coming into view on the road when I noticed Onlen sitting cross-legged on top of a boulder close to the entrance to the woods. Flian was in front of him, doing something. It was a bit far and the light was getting dim, so I couldn’t ascertain it, but it LOOKED like she was dancing. I had slept a bit after eating so I did not see when he left his house, no idea how long he was sitting there for. I got up from my napping spot and went to ask him what he was doing, but I was met with silence from him and a furious gaze from Flian. She still had her mask on, obviously, but I could tell because she stopped dancing abruptly and turned towards me with a fierce and almost violent movement. I felt as if I could see a pair of cold eyes staring at me even through the tiny bark mask. I subconsciously turned around and left, but as I walked away, I stole a quick glance back at them and noticed how Onlen had his eyes closed and a stiffness in his posture. After I made my way towards Briannee and the rest of my team, she must have noticed some confusion or curiosity betrayed on my face, because she immediately looked in the direction Onlen was and then back at me again. She started to explain it and as soon as I realized what she was telling me, I immediately grabbed her arm and dragged her as I ran back to the boulder again.”

Realization also dawned on Marsella as she read that last sentence and she quickly pulled her journal closer, preparing herself to make more notes as she read on, excitement inundating her mind.

“It was a scouting charm, apparently. I could not believe it. Sure, I had expected to see a genuine Folkbound spell at some point during the expedition, but to finally see it after studying and reading so much bout it, I could barely contain my excitement. Briannee explained that he was probably preparing it to scout the woods in search of a better path, since the previous day we didn’t see any signs or tracks. She also told us how it worked, or at least she tried her best to pass on what he had told her: As we know, common pixies can connect their senses remotely to many different species of flora in a certain radius. What we don’t usually hear about is how they can supposedly share this connection with their bond partners. This is what was happening, apparently. At that moment, Onlen’s mind - or more accurately, his senses - were jumping from flower to flower forest inwards, searching for a better direction for us to travel in the next day. When my team finally caught up to us, they also observed Onlen with me, making their annotations quietly after Briannee reprimanded us for the distraction when we were talking amongst ourselves and sharing insights. She went inside and we only followed after we finally felt like we had enough of observing that man sitting motionless on a rock and his little Fae companion dancing.”

“The following night we stopped and made camp after a whole day of walking through the woods. Onlen had been quiet, even more so than usual. We had, in fact, made our way towards a completely different direction from the previous day as he assured us that Flian helped him see that this trail would be more successful in finding what we were after. Speaking of Flian, she had a very different demeanor this time around. Instead of playing and floating around like the previous day, she had been tucked away inside Onlen’s clothes for almost the whole day. With all that in mind, when we finally had our little camp set up come night, I asked Onlen if there was anything we should worry about. He asked all of us in the research team how much we knew about the Fae. Honestly, I had expected this talk to have come much sooner, seeing how hard we had to search in order to find a Folkbound who would agree in guiding us for this expedition. Even when we found Onlen, a little over two months ago, we had to go through a lot to convince him. I told him we were no experts in Fae, specifically, but also assured him we were pretty competent researchers. After a few minutes of discussion, he still seemed apprehensive, but decided to give us a more in-depth lesson. Onlen explained how the Fae are usually regarded as two different categories or tribes. There are the ones with whom the Folkbound usually bond with, the ones they call The Seelie. On the other hand, there are those with whom no Niamenese should ever partner with. The Unseelie.”

For a second, Marsella fought back an urge to roll her eyes. Her friend knew she was aware of these classifications, so if the next paragraph was going to be a lengthy explanation about the grouping of “good” and “evil” Fae folk, she would have to remind herself to smack her good colleague the next time they saw each other. However, as her eyes glanced at the first few words of the next sentence, her frustration was quickly replaced with curiosity and she prepared herself to make more notes in her journal.

“Apparently the fools who published the studies on these classifications either did not pay a lot of attention or they simply were not smart enough to understand. As Onlen explained it, the Seelie and Unseelie tribes - or courts, as the Niamenese usually refer to them - do not, in the slightest, depict the moral standings of their members. It is not as simple as ‘good faeries’ vs ‘evil faeries.’ According to him, a faerie of the Seelie court can very well be evil and cruel, SPECIALLY when partnered with a morally contentious human, as they are as much susceptible to their partner’s influence as their partner is to theirs. What sets an Unseelie faerie apart from a Seelie one, then, is the kind of bond they form with their partner. You see, Marsella, as we learned very recently, a faerie can bond itself to any species of living creature, it doesn’t need to be a human. In fact, it is more common for other animals and even plants to be bonded to Fae folk than for humans. However, no matter what kind of creature is bound to them, there is ALWAYS a component of trust and consent or respect and care, in the case of plant life. A Seelie faerie will never forcefully bond with an unwilling creature or do so with ill intent. That’s where Unseelie Fae come in. As Onlen put it, the Unseelie will almost always bond with an unwilling partner, be it to exploit them, consume them, corrupt them, you name it. They disregard a rule or instinct that all faeries should acknowledge and respect. He explained to us that there ARE some faeries who don’t force themselves upon their partners and, when bound, don’t exactly act to harm them, but are still considered part of the Unseelie court because of another crucial taboo that they violate: The ‘rule of attachment’ or ‘rule of the veil’, as Onlen described it.”

Marsella placed the finished page on the desk and quickly began reading the next. She no longer felt like she needed another drink to stay awake. Her attention to the letter was unwavering now.

“When you, as a Niamenese, willingly make a pact with one of these types of Fae, you are immediately ostracized. Depending on the specific species, you may be exiled, imprisoned for life, or even hunted down and executed. No other Folkbound will ever accept you as one of their own. And this ‘rule of attachment’ or ‘rule of the veil’ is the reason. He explained that in a ‘normal’ bond, whenever one of the partners dies, the other has to accept, mourn and never bond itself to another. That usually addresses the faeries, since they live much longer than their human or animal partners. But if in any circumstance, a Folkbound were to lose their faerie partner, they have to adhere to this as well. What the Unseelie Fae usually do, however, is disregard this rule. It varies from species to species and how powerful they each are, but it can range from a Fae keeping the corpse of their partner as a cadaver host from keeping them alive in wrong and wicked ways, with some of the most powerful ones even bringing them back to life entirely. Some of them may not have the power for any of that, but they still violate the taboo by bonding with new partners after their previous one died. It started to occur to me, as I’m sure it is occurring to you now, where the problem in this expedition lied, in the eyes of the Niamenese.”

As her friend correctly deduced, the realization indeed hit Marsella and she let herself melt onto her chair. She felt the shock of new information reshaping her views and shedding new light on their whole topic of research: This wasn’t just foolish and dangerous in the eyes of their local guides. It was a matter of searching for a creature who defiled their beliefs and way of life. She straightened herself and pushed through her conflicted thoughts before continuing to read.

“As we talked more through the night, Onlen finally addressed the reason why he agreed to guide us in looking for our research subject. He wasn’t doing it to educate other people about their culture and the ways of the Fae. He said Flian was actually the one who told him he should accept it just for the small chance that ‘the outlanders might help find a way to understand and correct that dark and sad side of her people.’ As he told us that, I noticed how Flian was standing on the ground between him and I, the light from the campfire illuminating her in a way from an angle that made me unable to see the front of her head. I must admit that hearing that this tiny, almost otherworldly creature was the one who pleaded with Onlen and reached out for us was a bit unnerving to me. And judging from the fact that the whole team had difficulty sleeping that night, I’d say it was unnerving to them too.”

Below this paragraph, Marsella saw a drawing of the pixie as her friend had described above: A sketch of the faerie’s head looking up directly at them but with the whole “face” - or bark mask, in this case - shadowed by a source of light behind her. She felt a sudden chill permeate her and quickly moved on.

“The next morning was uneventful, the whole team clearly was still a little shaken up by Onlen’s words from the previous night. We kept walking in the direction he had scouted with his Folkbound charm two nights earlier. Briannee made us a quick lunch at noon - or what we supposed was noon, it was very hard to tell so deep into those woods - and we kept going without stopping for as long as we had light. As the day went on and the little glimpses of sky we could through the canopy would get rarer, we started noticing a cold mist settling all around us. Or to be honest, we noticed it after we were completely surrounded by it. It wasn’t thick enough to completely obscure our visions and it mostly stayed low, at most reaching 10 to 15 centimeters high. But it certainly felt like a sea of cold smoke extending to every direction. Everywhere we looked, there were two certainties: giant, old and shriveled trees and thick and white mist on the ground stretching for as long as our eyes could see. We kept marching on for another hour or so and by the end of that time, only torches and lamps lit our way. At one point, one of the team members stepped on something and as he reached down to see what it was, we were all a little unsettled. A human skull, looking like it had belonged to a young child, was resting on his open palm. Onlen shouted something in Niamenese and quickly ran from his side to stand closer to us in the research team. We felt a tension in the air, but I believe it only really dawned on us that something was amiss when we saw Flian float out from her little refuge in Onlen’s clothes and start moving erratically through the air around him. She would float in one direction, point at something that we couldn’t see, float in another direction and point that way. When I asked Briannee what was wrong, she only said that ‘we had found them’.”

Marsella’s eyes opened wide as she put the finished page down and immediately saw what started the next one. Before the first paragraph in this new page, a new sketch greeted her. A human skeleton partially covered by moss and dead leaves, stared her down through the page. On its head - skull - a long and dark crimson cap hung to the side. Covering the left eye socket. From the skeleton’s torso, a squiggly arrow sketched pointed to the writing “host?”, while from the skull, another arrow jotted out with the tip pointing to the word “subject?”.

“From the ground, previously concealed by the thick mist, three fully grown human skeletons rose. We had indeed found them. After months of research, travel and local convincing, we had finally stumbled upon our subjects. I was so excited that I momentarily ignored the danger of the situation, even as I heard my team screaming in surprise. Briannee yelled for me to stop and only then did I realize I was walking towards the creatures. Onlen was a few meters in front of us, between the subjects and I. I saw him run towards them with Flian floating away in the same direction, but as one of the skeletons made an erratic swipe of its arms to presumably try and grab him, Onlen stepped aside and ran past it. He kept running away from our group and all three of them turned around and started chasing him and his faerie companion. Their movements, for the brief moment I was able to see before they were all gone in the darkness of the forest, was unnerving. It felt wrong, as if all the bones were being dragged around by some invisible puppeteer. We all stood there with bated breath as Briannee told us to watch our surroundings and make sure no other skeleton arose around us. My heart was racing and my thoughts were running wild as I took out my sketchbook and subconsciously started drawing right there on the spot, standing up and having only the faint light of my lamp to help me see the result. Before I even finished, we heard Onlen returning from the shadows and Briannee ran to check on him. That took me out of my trance and I immediately asked him where the subjects were. He said he got rid of them and before I could even protest it, he tossed something my way. Only after I caught it, despite my surprise, did I notice it was a burlap sac with its ‘mouth’ tied in a knot. After feeling it around a bit, I noticed a faint movement coming from within. Onlen told me my ‘target’ was inside and that I was not allowed to open it until after I left Niamenese lands. I thought of protesting that, as well, my curiosity clouding my judgment, but one look at his face, illuminated in a somber way by the faint lamp lights, made me reconsider it. After carefully analyzing his expression I also noticed Flian standing completely straight on top of his right shoulder. Her petal cloak was wrapped around her, covering her arms and most of her torso, instead of hanging behind her like usual, it gave her a resolute and unpleasant atmosphere.”

Marsella once again felt a sudden chill and fought the urge to check if her window was open. It wasn’t, it never was and she knew it. She put down the newly finished page on the desk and went back to reading.

“The whole way back to the entrance of the woods was filled with a strange tension. No, it would be more accurate to say there were three tensions in the air, competing to see which one would make the group crack first. One was the tension that team and I constantly felt since Onlen handed me that sac. The pressure we fought hard to keep in check, the NEED to open it and immediately start our long awaited research. To think our object of study was there in our possession, but we were not allowed to study it was almost killing all of us. The second tension was the total silence tha Onlen immersed himself in since he told me not to open the sac. His steps, his breathing, his occasional whispers to his wife. None seemed to make a sound, but at the same time, it was a silence that felt heavy in our eardrums. It was almost as if he exuded an aura of stillness around him that pushed outward from him and collided with us in its way. Flian, of course, also seemed closed and distant. Even from Onlen himself. Despite riding on his shoulder the entire way back, she did not play around with her Folkbound at any time. Briannee did all of the talking with us during the trip back out of the forest, but even she sounded quiet and drained. Then, there was the third tension… This one, I suspect, was only felt by me. It was a strange mix of almost palpable feelings coming from within the sac. I could feel the subject’s fear, curiosity, and loneliness. At one point, I could swear I heard something like a faint voice coming from it and I had to fight really hard to keep myself from opening the burlap sac. When we finally exited the woods and arrived at their home, two full days after our encounter in the mist, Briannee quickly helped us pack while Onlen disappeared in the direction of a little stream which ran down from the nearby waterfall where he usually bathes, as his wife told us days earlier. She made it clear that he would not be coming back to see us off and that she would, in fact, like us to depart as soon as possible so that she could go and join him. I should also point out that as we exited the forest, I noticed that Flian was no longer riding on Onlen’s shoulder. No one in my team seemed to notice when she left or where she went, so we just left it at that. Despite our exhaustion, we respected Briannee’s wishes and departed as soon as our travel preparations were finished. We traveled for almost four more days before finally officially being out of Niamenese lands and one full morning on top of that to reach the first Amantenese settlement. By this point, the team and I had already grown used to the urge of opening the sac, so we refrained from doing so immediately upon arriving in Amanten. We decided we were all too tired and we’d wait until after we rested at an inn before digging into our research.

That night, however, I felt that third tension from the track back from the woods pulsing in my ears again. As I lied in the bed of my room in the roadside inn we came across, I looked at the sac resting on top of the little bedside desk. I got up, opened it and let its contents slide onto said desk. An adult human skull covered in dirt and riddled with little cracks in the bone stared at me, devoid of any life. On its side, spread onto the desk like a soft fabric, the long and crimsong little hood or cap that adorned it before. As I started to reach for it, I saw movement. Subtle, slow, weak. What I thought to be a dark red fabric revealed itself to be a sort of amorphous, living substance and from the borders of what would be the opening of the cap, parts of the ‘cap’ started to stretch out towards the skull like little tentacles. It latched itself to the bone and moved until it was ‘upward’ and close to my face. Suddenly, a pair of black beads showed themselves. Little dark eyes looking at me with intense curiosity and longing. There it was, finally! The creature I had waited so long to meet. Seeing it up close and harkening back to Onlen’s explanation of the Unseelie Fae, I immediately understood its common name. This was never a deceased human who came back to hunt the living in violent revenge.

No… this was a fragile, desperate creature who clung to its deceased host/bound partner even after their demise. Manipulating its animated corpse and feeding on its clotting blood as it deteriorated and nothing but bones remained. Bones and a little, bloody Red Cap.”

Marsella put the last page down on the desk and noticed she had been staring at her journal for quite some time, pen in hand, but nothing came to mind. She opened one of the desk’s drawers and pulled a sheet of paper more proper for a letter and started to write a reply. In her excitement, she failed to notice she did not read the final sentence in her colleague’s message.

“It was speaking to me, Marsella. It was scared and starving and I felt for it. I hope you understand.

Your friend and colleague, W. Asarui.”

[captain-idkwhattodo]

The Quarry x Wednesday mashup

So I’ve seen all of ‘Wednesday’ and of course the first thing I think about is all of the hacketters as Nevermore students/ outcasts and what creature they would be!

So lets get started,

Kaitlyn

-nagi/naga🐍 (half human half snake)

-I’ve read that nagas are strong, beautiful, and proud creatures who have a semi divine presence. They were also often put on guard duty since they were powerful and I feel like that fits kaitlyn perfectly

-she would have 3 forms: full on giant snake (dark red scales w/a bright red under belly), half human/snake, and a humanish form. Her human look would have patches of scales on her skin, fangs, and snake eyes.

-she can use her eyes to bewitch people and mostly uses it on her friends to stop them from doing dumb things

-she can also swallow big pieces of food without chewing and uses that skill to freak ppl out

Ryan

-Witch🔮 (grandparents practices hoodoo)

-he would be a strong spell caster but I think his specialty would be potions/herbs and fortune telling/ card reading (def using the fact that justice smith can read tarot cards)

-has Wednesday vibes but not as cold but just as quiet. Also has visions but has to directly touch who/whatever so he usually wear gloves

-ironically, actually allergic to bright colors (except white). Like seriously allergic. He told the others this but they assumed it was a joke. Jacob would prank him by leaving pastel colored clothing in his bed. Ryan retaliates by throwing knives at his general direction (Jacob apologizes once he realizes his mistake)

Laura

-Jackalope 🐇 *A/N:I honestly thought they were real so this was a fun dive*

-the lore about them is that they are a powerful and dangerous adversary. They are very defensive, quick, and prefers to face their enemy head on. Leaving their victims bloody and with gouge marks from their horns. Basically Laura

-They could also be persuaded to come to ppl/captured willingly by being offered their fav drink: whisky (this is how her and Ryan became fast friends)

-she has two forms: her jackalope form (a blonde/brown 4ft long rabbit with 1ft long sharp antlers) and her humanish form (her but with 6in long antlers)

-has sent multiple ppl to the nurse for “accidental” injuries

Max

-a normie 👨🏻‍🦰 (you always need one in the group)

-I think it would be so cute for him to try and like look cool in front of the cute, tough girl who is also an outcast and just completely fail but that’s ok cause she’s into that

-he works at an animal shelter and that’s where him and Laura met

-Laura brought Ryan to meet him and by the end of their convo he’s just like “I’ve only know max for 10 minutes but if anything were to happen to him I’d kill everyone in the room and then myself”

-will throw hands if you talk badly about outcasts

Dylan

-werewolf 🐕

-has Enid vibes but has more of a soft boy/ gamer aesthetic and more sarcastic. Complete golden retriever energy

-is very tactile in a ‘little shit’ kinda way and scent marks his “pack” (with their permission of course)

-is definitely a “stoner” ;)

-has 3 forms. Full shift (looks more like the regular werewolves than hairless dogs), half shift (think ‘Teen wolf’ with the wolf features, sharp canines, glowing eyes, pointy ears, and sideburns), and human  

-is the one who’ll howl randomly throughout, causing others to do it too 

Abi

-psychic 🌌

-her powers would work be similar to how Xavier’s does

-she doesn’t have to touch anything to activate it. She will put out her notebook then call on a vision and draw what’s in it

-she can control it but sometimes they will come randomly, forcing her into a trance like state and draw on whatever’s available

-can bring her drawings to life. She has several tattoos that has her magic in it. They come move and also hop off her body if she wants it. If the drawing gets damaged too much then it poofs and reappears back where it was drawn

Emma

-halfling 🧚🏼‍♀️ (half fae, half human)

-like full blooded faes, she’s very beautiful and charming. Enchanting ppl around her (even through a screen). Unlike full blooded faes, she can’t out right brainwash a person. Just make them feel very compelled to do what she asks

-her ‘stage persona’ is still very whimsical/ airhead

-her other abilities are: super strength, because of her glamor ability she can read others emotions but can’t change them, and photokinesis (able to shoot and manipulate light with her mind) 

-in her fae form, her eyes glow completely white, her teeth turn razor sharp, and her fingers turn black and grows long claws on them

Nick

-siren 🧜🏼‍♂️

-wanted to pick something to go with the “puppy dog eyes/ steel BBQ grill under that shirt” comment. Also how Australia has many pretty creatures that can def kill you

-I feel like Nick is such a cool dude (when he’s not putting on an act) that everyone has had a small crush on him at some point. Some think he’s using his powers but no, he’s just like that✨

-his two forms would be: his human form (with bright blue and brown eyes color) and his siren form which has more of “traditional” siren look then what was on the show (his eyes go completely black, razor sharp teeth, and long claws)

-His scale coloring would be a mix of greys, whites, and blues

Jacob

-also a werewolf 🐕

-has Bernese mountain dog energy (saw a TikTok that said guys with this energy are basically himbos, the loudest one in the room without realizing it, and sometimes forget how large they are. Jacob to a T)

-also has 3 forms (full wolf, half shift, human)

-very tactile in a ‘big dog who thinks they’re small/ forgets their big’ way