#spring equinox masterpost | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nandysparadox · 9 months ago

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A Wish Your Heart Makes - Ch.1 ♡

In dreams, you will lose your heartaches

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Rated T - CW: past parental death, magical compulsion, fantasy discrimination, emotional abuse & neglect, manipulative and controlling behavior - WC: 7012

@bitterpoison's art for this chapter - here!

Despite it all, if there was one thing Patton could never resent about Fairyland, it was the landscapes.

Snowmelt still clung to the wild grass, dewdrops glittering like tiny little gems in the garden where the sunlight hit them. Patton smiled at the sight. If anything, it distracted him from his struggle to clean up one stubborn spot of dirt on the porch, stuck to the damp wood no matter how he swept. Patton huffed. He guessed it did come with the snow thawing, and he couldn’t complain about that, even if it made the task a little harder. At least it meant that, finally, spring had come.

Well, it won’t get any cleaner than that. He put his broom away with a sigh, coming to rest over the railing. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be noticed.

The breeze still carried a touch of winter in it, but the sun, as bright as ever, warmed his skin. He fixed the handkerchief over his head and grinned, unable to hide his giddiness as he watched over the yard. Oh, how he’d looked forward to this.

The morning of the second day of spring — very specific, he knew, but dear to him anyway. The quiet freedom and the lovely weather, together, made for the most peaceful hours of the year. Patton would make the most of this little moment while it lasted. He had stayed cooped up in the manor for way too long — but if seeing this came at the end of it, he guessed he could deal with it.

The seasons changed in Fairyland as they might’ve anywhere else, but a little bit of magic went a long way. Some things came gradually, of course, like the thawing of snow and the adorable little critters that had just begun to leave their burrows, but others came more as a burst of colors in the equinox. You wouldn’t miss it even if you didn’t have the date marked. Flowers already sprouted in between the tiles and bricks in the walls, and they bloomed high in the yard, too, wildflowers bridging the way from the garden to the trees.

Everything just… glowed. And for a moment Patton could imagine running off, losing himself in colorful fields and just living.

He tapped his fingers against the banister of the railing, smoothing out the wood-carved details with his touch, and closed his eyes. For a moment he let himself walk into that fantasy, of wind in his hair and grass under his feet. And then he reeled himself back in, stepping away from the porch with a small smile. Patton knocked at the door first, then entered.

…Lively would never really be a word he’d use to describe the manor, but it did look better already. With spring sunshine streaming through the windows, even the patterned furniture didn’t look so stuffy. Patton made to step into the common room, but before he could, a small carpet unrolled itself in front of him. Sheepishly, he toed the dirt off his shoes on it and then lightly patted the doorway as acknowledgment.

It would do no good to track muck into the house, he was the one who’d have to clean it all over again after!

Now properly inside, Patton’s eyes flitted over the room. Maybe he should… check, yes, if everything was in order. His gaze fell to the floor, not a speck of dust showed in the dark wooden boards. Check. All vases were upright and watered. Check. And the shelves and books were as neat as ever… there was nothing he really needed to do, was there? He fidgeted with the edge of his apron for a moment, then gingerly pulled out a chair from the dining table and sat, to calm his nerves.

C’mon Patton, he chastised himself, there’s no need to be so nervous, you spent an entire winter making sure of that!

That was right, being completely and utterly stuck inside the house during a whole season gave you quite a lot of free time, and most of it — when not spent crafting or reading the few books he had — Patton used to leave every inch of the manor as pristine and proper as he could. More so her arrival would go smoothly — he’d hate to start spring off on the wrong foot! Besides, it did help distract him, especially from that dreadful freezing weather, no mind the snowstorms.

Patton shifted in his seat. Maybe he shouldn’t speak so ill of winter. It was cold, yes, but he was lucky enough to have a good fireplace, and the snow never crept inside the house, even in the heaviest storms! His clothes were far too thin for him to leave the manor, but he could see, from the window, the snowflakes and how delicately they framed the hills in white.

…Patton was alone in the manor, during the winter. And, for a month or two, he felt like he could breathe again. The floorboards could creak under his feet and he wouldn’t worry a bit, and he could hog the heavy blankets, put honey on his milk, sing a wordless little tune without any criticism. He could even visit the garden on warmer nights, and just sit there, moonlight on his hair.

But, when he spoke, his words would echo back at him from empty halls. And when he lay down to sleep in his cot, he wondered if that was all there would be for him. No one came to pull him out of the darkness with demanding hands, and he should be grateful for that, but the warmth behind them left a want in his heart that Patton could not understand.

He had been born in the wintertime, and a small part of him sometimes worried about what that could mean. But that was only the way of the fae getting to his head, Patton supposed, a thing like that wouldn’t matter to a human. His mom had always declared it a wonderful season, as she bundled him up in coats. Maybe she had been right, but for the past 7 years, it had been nothing but maddeningly, achingly lonely for him.

He wished she were there to argue for it.

Rustling from the doorway tore Patton away from his thoughts; a creak of the door’s hinges broke through the manor’s still silence. A delighted croon soon followed and his fingers curled tighter around the chair’s armrest. He quickly stood, straightening the folds in his apron.

The Faerie walked in with her chin held high. Small sprouts bloomed behind her steps as she strolled into the room. Her dress flowed with her movements — green fabric folded and pinned in place by brooches and belts, a style of gown Patton had only seen on her, older than he could pinpoint. She looked over the manor with a bored expression; in her gaze was the sense that she’d seen many, many things before, and you wouldn’t impress her.

But then her eyes fell on Patton and widened with a spark. The Faerie pulled back her cloak to reveal her long, golden hair, while a grin split across her face, as sharp as her features. He held back a flinch.

“Oh, there you are, dear,” she cooed, swiftly moving to cup Patton’s chin and lightly squeeze his cheeks with her fingers. She turned his head this way and that, then dropped her hand, instead taking his arm and leading him into a spin. He nearly tripped. “You have grown, have you not? You were tinier before, I’m sure.”

Patton hadn’t grown an inch since he was 16. A chuckle fell from his lips, strained, as she pulled him closer. The Faerie didn’t say anything else as she stared at him, eyes gleaming with interest as if he were a shiny new thing. She dragged a finger over the shell of his ear, perfectly rounded, unlike hers. Patton almost shuddered.

She always acted like this after she overwintered, like the little human in her house was the most novel thing she’d ever seen. No use fighting it, really; he’d lose her interest in a month or two. She trailed her hand back to his face and her thumb skimmed over his cheekbone. Patton’s eyes fell shut as he pressed closer to the warmth of her palm.

Finally, she let go. Stepping back from him, her gaze flitted through every corner of the room. He swallowed, wringing his hands.

“You have done an adequate job tending to the manor,” The Faerie nodded, “Though, I notice the fireplace has yet to be cleaned…”

In a second, panic swelled in his chest. “I’m sorry, miss, I-”

She shushed him, smiling as if she enjoyed seeing him fumble. Patton clicked his mouth shut.

“It is quite alright, dear, you’ll get to it soon enough, won’t you?”

He cast his eyes down as he nodded, silent. A hand tapped his shoulder.

“But first, won’t you fetch me a cup of tea? The Spring Equinox Festival has left me just completely exhausted.”

You’ve slept for an entire season, Patton thought, a little spitefully, but squeaked out a meek “Yes, miss,” and made his way to the kitchen. He made her tea — a floral blend, as usual — and wondered, when had it become second nature to just slot back into this routine.

He carefully balanced the tea tray as he shuffled back into the common room. The Faerie waited for Patton in her armchair. Hands folded over her lap, she sat perfectly poised, her feet crossed at the ankles. After he poured her a cup, she took it from him with little acknowledgment.

She sipped from it slowly. Patton stood off to the side. He hadn’t been dismissed yet. Minutes dragged and he began to tap his foot.

After finishing her tea, The Faerie swirled her teacup around, eyes trained on the dried flowers left at the bottom. “I foresee a change coming soon to the kingdom, don’t you?”

Patton held back a sigh. “I don’t know of these things, miss.”

“Of course you don't, dear,” she chuckled, shaking her head in that way of hers that never failed to make him feel so terribly small. “Oh, but I do so hope I'm right. The gentry have become so… incompetent.”

Taking the teacup from her, Patton hummed and set the tray aside on the accent table. He prepared himself for the incoming rant.

“Of course, I don’t know what I expected of the princelet’s little celebration. I’ve tried to play their games and acquiesce to their formalities, and where has it gotten me? Nowhere: dreadfully forgotten as always. I cannot believe the control those fools have over the kingdom, they know nothing of the strength of the courts and nothing of power.”

“You could always try to reason with them come next revel,” Patton suggested, keeping his voice light. He didn’t know what he thought he’d get out of it. Most of their “conversations” were firmly one-sided.

The Faerie laughed, not even deeming him with an answer, as if his suggestion had been nothing short of ridiculous. Patton’s ears burned and he looked away. He really shouldn’t let that get to him, and yet.

Her laughter was cut off abruptly, and her gaze narrowed on the table. She leaned down to look under it and, before she could see it or catch it, a little mouse scurried past the leg of the table. Patton’s eyes widened, and almost on instinct, he snatched the poor creature off the floor and dropped it into his pouch.

The Faerie lifted her head, staring at him. “There was a pest here.”

Patton gulped, shoulders tensing. He smiled the best he could. “I must’ve missed it, miss.”

The little mouse squirmed in his pouch, no doubt unhappy with its situation — but in all honesty, Patton had just saved it. The Faerie kept the household under her strict control, and you had better believe that extended to the critters that occasionally found their way in. She hated them. Patton petted his pouch gently, as that’d comfort it.

The Faerie kept him pinned by eye contact for a few more seconds, then her lips curled in a smile as soft as it was unnerving.

“Won’t you come here, dear?” she said, words dipped in honey.

Patton shuffled towards the edge of the seat. She waved him closer, then took the strap of his apron with her fingers. She ran her thumb over the worn-down cloth.

“Your clothes are all run ragged,” she said, “I’ve brought you some fabric. Yellow, your favorite, isn’t it?”

It wasn’t.

“You’ll have to mend them, of course,” she cooed, reaching out to cup his cheek. “But that won’t be a problem, will it? You’re no master, but you are remarkably talented for a little human. You’ve picked up sewing faster than most saplings would.”

Her hand trailed down to his neck, nails skimming over the skin there. Patton nearly shivered. “In fact, I’ve found some of your thread and half-finished pieces. You’ve been doing embroidery, no?” She leaned closer, close enough to whisper into his ear. There was a chilling calmness in her voice that raised the hair on Patton’s arms. “I’ve never taught you that.”

“M-miss, I-”

She chuckled and it echoed hollow around them. “It’s quite alright, I imagine you must’ve picked it up from a book in my study, isn’t that so?”

Patton nodded, thankful for the out, but confused as to why she’d give him that. Her long nails pressed more firmly against the nape of his neck. “Why, you’d never hide something of the sort from me, would you? Otherwise—”

Her eyes narrowed. The mouse squirmed again in the pouch. Patton felt it against his hip. His throat was dry. He didn’t need the reminder, that he was just as trapped as it was.

“—I’d be very cross indeed, Patton.”

His chest ached as soon his name slipped from her lips, like a string tied taut around his heart had just been pulled. He curled his arms around himself with a near whine, chancing a glance at her.

The Faerie gave him a smile, one that might’ve been perfectly pleasant on anyone else. She moved her hand to his hair, running her fingers through the messy locks until she reached the back of his head, where it had been bluntly clipped by dull scissors.

“You’ve cut your hair again,” she murmured, disappointed. “Why don’t you grow it out?”

Patton let out a shaky breath before answering. “It gets in the way, miss—”

“You should let it grow,” she twisted a strand around, continuing. “It is truly novel that time alone could dictate your appearance. It is incredibly remarkable, incredibly human, that change comes after you, wanted or not.”

She then patted the top of Patton’s head, and he nearly followed the touch. The ache in his chest faded, the strings loose but not untied. The Faerie stood from her armchair.

“No matter, I will leave you to your work. The garden needs tending to, it is my season after all. I shall see you later, dear.”

Patton watched as she left, then sighed. He picked up his broom, set aside against the wall. No time to dawdle, he guessed. His fingers tightened around the wooden handle.

The winter hadn’t quite left him after all.

—♡—

Moonlight fell around him and spilled from the open window, bright enough to lighten the room if only a little, and to reflect off the newly-dusted furniture. Patton swiftly untied the knot at the back of his apron, before slipping it off and hanging it over the rickety chair near the fireplace.

He hadn’t had much to do today — well, less than he usually did, at least. He undid his kerchief as well, using it to dab the sweat off his forehead. It didn’t mean he wasn’t tired, though.

From the corner of his eye, a blur of movement passed through the bookshelf followed by loud tip-tapping over wood. Patton dropped his handkerchief over his apron and approached the shelf, leaning over it to inspect. He reached for a book and pushed it aside, blinking when that revealed the little intruder. A tiny mouse, the one from earlier! With the same brown spots and beady black eyes. It cowered away from him, skittering backward, and Patton felt a pang of guilt at that.

“Aw, I’m sorry I grabbed you like that earlier, little guy,” Patton whispered. “But you have to be more careful, you’d be in for a world of trouble if she saw you out and about.”

The mouse’s nose twitched and it slowly walked away from its hiding spot. It butted its head against Patton’s hand and Patton giggled at how cute it was.

But, suddenly, the little critter backed away and ran through the shelf, leaping from it and landing on the chair, making it creak loudly. Patton’s eyes widened and before he could reach for the mouse, it took his handkerchief by its teeth and scurried away.

“Hey!” Patton said, following behind it. He scampered after it through the common room, until it took a sharp turn around the corner. The little mouse squeaked as it stopped just under the stairwell as if it was waiting for Patton.

“You—!” he said, out of breath, as he reached the stairway. He put a hand on his hip. “You gave me quite the run, little guy, please don’t do that again—”

His gaze fell on the spot where the mouse stood. Its paws planted over a small door, almost hidden by the shadows. …A door Patton knew quite well.

“Oh,” he said, straightening up, “You… wanted to bring me here?”

The mouse wiggled its head in an almost nod. Patton bent down, holding his head as he slipped into the space under the stairs. He glanced at the door. It was late, but not so late yet, and normally, he’d wait until it was well into the night, when he was sure he’d be alone. He bit his lip. He really should go to sleep, rest the little he could, but… the day weighed heavy on him, and right then, nothing seemed better than getting to float away in his own little corner for a bit.

“Alright,” Patton sighed as he kneeled down, watching as the mouse jumped up excitedly and chirped. The corner of his lips turned up at the sight. He reached for the small handle, turning the knob, and with only a click, the door opened for him effortlessly. Though he was fairly sure it must’ve been locked before, pins in place and everything, it always opened for him anyway — as it did when he first found it. Murmuring a quick “thank you”, he peered inside.

It was quite dark in the crawlspace — you could barely see a thing, so Patton pulled a little flask out of his pouch. He shook it, once, twice, until the crystal inside it hit the glass hard and began to glow, bathing their surroundings in a soft, bluish light.

With that, the little mouse jumped into the burrow, swerving around the fabric and thread Patton kept there. Most of them he'd worked on himself, stitching them into garments or embroidering them with delicate patterns of silver. Patton watched, amused, as it sniffed at the trinkets and traded goods he'd collected over the years — jewels and coins, glasses and flasks of all shapes and sizes, drops of sunlight glowing in tiny jars, little silver boxes that glinted off the blue light. He even had a few charms lying around that, although he didn’t know how to use them, would be quite valuable to a faerie!

Finally, the critter announced with a squeak that it had found what it looked for. It circled a little wooden chest, before trying to climb it the best it could. Patton giggled.

“You're such a curious little thing, hm?” he said, reaching for the chest. He smoothed his thumb over the lid, tracing a well-worn path over the wood. He smiled and opened the latch.

Inside gleamed a patchwork collection of familiar knickknacks, from unique inventions to beautiful, ornate jewelry– whatever could have fit in a box at the time. His eyes flitted towards the mirror fixed right under the box’s lid and he caught his reflection. His bent wire-framed glasses slipped over the bridge of his nose and cinders from the fireplace smudged over his cheeks.

His hand hovered over the box, fingers curling back into his palm. Ashes — he’d found — stuck to you insistently, in hair, clothes, and skin, so he supposed he couldn't be too precious over it. Still, he hated to dirty something that mattered so much to him. The last things he could remember the human world by. All he had.

He hadn’t known all of them before, though by now, he’d committed them to memory with his touch alone. Those came as one last gift to him, gemstone-trimmed bracelets and necklaces that would’ve fit better around his mom’s neck. But others, oh, he’d never forget them. The tight hugs his dad would give him returning from a weeks-long trip and the way his hands would cup Patton’s little ones and slip a new ingenious gadget into them. How he’d gather Patton into his arms and teach him how to use them, how they worked.

The memory won over Patton’s hesitations and he sifted through the box, pulling out a pocket watch and a compass. So delicately made, even the tiniest details engraved in metal. He wrapped the pocket watch’s chain around his fingers, feeling the weight of it in his hand before slipping it into his pocket. It could be useful, even if it didn’t track the time quite right. He was in Fairyland after all — nothing ever worked quite right.

Patton sighed at the thought and tucked the compass back into its place, over the velveteen fabric that lined the box. He looked at it for a moment longer, then closed the lid. Quite a collection, indeed. He wondered, did his dad know they would bring him such comfort? He packed them for him, before Patton was whisked away. Maybe that was how his dad wished for him to remember his home.

He knew his father had been the one to strike the deal. Maybe far before Patton was born. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, let that paint over his memories in grief. Maybe it was naive of him, but that was something he learned to accept he wouldn’t ever understand, and he’d never get the chance to. But he did remember. The tender words that wrapped blankets around his heart on fearful nights, how warm his father’s hands were as he tucked Patton into bed and kissed his forehead, the lessons and games in the garden. That was enough for him.

Slipping his fingers under a loose tile, Patton knocked it away and revealed the tiny teal box stashed right under it. From it, he drew out a silver ring, one he kept as safely hidden as he could. It had no jewels or fancy engravings, but to him, it was the most special ring he’d ever had. He slipped it onto his finger, and another memory followed as the metal slid over his skin. Patton closed his hands over each other, bringing them close to his chest.

He'd been so worried as father packed for another trip, fearful that if he let him go, he would be gone too. His dad had simply kneeled in front of him, a kind smile on his face.

“It’s been difficult for all of us, I know, but I promise I will be right by you, my little bird, just as your mother,” he’d said, as he slipped the ring onto Patton’s hand. It had been much too large, at that time, but he grew into it. “Please, just remember — have courage and be kind, and you’ll get through any challenge.”

Patton couldn’t forget it, it was all that had kept him going — past the darkness and the cold. He’d come to, every morning, and he’d remind himself that if only he could be a little brave and kind, things would turn out okay in the end. Then he’d draw the blinds open to let the first streaks of sunlight fill the attic and he’d face the day with a smile. So, yes, he’d hoard all the good memories, keep them cradled close to his chest where they warmed his heart like red embers in a fireplace. He knew what his father had done. It didn’t matter, not to him.

Something bumped against Patton’s thigh. Startled out of his thoughts, he glanced over to find the little mouse staring up at him, the blue ribbon from the box wrapped around its paws. Patton softened.

“You really are trying to cheer me up…” he chuckled faintly, as he took the ribbon, the fabric a smooth satin over his palm. “That was my mom’s, you know?”

A warm feeling bloomed inside him just at the sight of it. He let the ribbon flow down his fingers. Silver thread embroidered vines and flowers down its length, tiny little robins in branches nested in the hems. It had taken a long time to make, but his mom never seemed to mind. Every stitch, every torn piece of string, brought with it a story, told from her armchair as she so diligently worked on it. Patton would always listen, curled up right next to her.

Tales of magic and fantasy, of valiant princes and dragons. Fairies. He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. Oh, he’d loved those the most when he was little, to run barefoot through his garden, wishing he’d walk into a new world where the sun shined different. His mom would come with him, hold his hand and her voice alone could make him believe in it.

It was real, of course. Patton knew that now. He sighed, curling his hand over the ribbon. How ironic, he was stranded in a world mapped out of his dreams, living among mysterious, ethereal creatures, and yet he felt as puny as a tiny mouse. He glanced at his little friend — it seemed focused, playing with a strip of fabric on the ground. He took it and wrapped it around its neck, like a little scarf. The mouse didn’t seem bothered; it nuzzled right against his palm.

“I really ought to name you,” Patton whispered. “… Bernard? No, I don’t like that…”

“Hmm…” He leaned onto his elbow, thinking. “How about… Jackson? Jaq for short?”

Suddenly, the mouse squeaked loudly, jumping up in delight. Patton blinked, then grinned. “Jaq it is!”

Jaq nuzzled against him again and Patton giggled in response. What a strange little mouse! Despite it all, every now and then Patton came across these sort of ordinary little things that were still magical to him. He had to; he couldn’t let himself become afraid of wonder. Because, as it was, he still dreamed as he did many years ago, dreamed of adventure and something more. More than the strings that tied him there. Patton couldn’t keep himself idle in the face of that. So, each and every day, he’d seek out these little things and find the magic for himself — make it if he had to. He’d work and he’d hope, wish with all his heart that things would end up alright, and they would.

Patton wound the ribbon into a little pile and tucked it back in the box, along with the ring. Gently, he lowered it into the floor, covering it with the tile. He put his things back into place, before taking a yellow-patched bag from the back of the crawlspace. He smiled as Jaq skipped out of the burrow, and then he closed the small door, hearing it lock into place with no key.

He’d find his way out, no matter how long it took him.

—♡—

The manor was always at its quietest deep into the night, when his steps would echo down the stairway and there'd be no one there to hear them.

If he timed it right, it made for the perfect opportunity to sneak out, if only for a few hours.

Patton tugged at the piece of thread he’d tied to the lock, then tucked it carefully beside the window frame. It looked near invisible, were you not searching for it, but a little pull at it could let him back in easily. He let the window slide shut, and slinked his way to the ground, feet falling into the grass with only a soft thud. With one hand, he pulled his cloak over his head and then made his way over to the edges of the garden, where they kept the fences and the flowers — not before sneaking one last cautious glance at the manor.

Never hurt to check, Patton thought, though he’d heard The Faerie leave while he feigned sleep.

Ducking under the fence, he slipped into the shadows where the hedges blended with the forest and disappeared into the treeline. Patton pulled the yellow-patched bag closer to his chest, keeping it safe as he swerved through bushes and vines. The trees only grew higher and higher above him the further he got into the woods, hiding him from the stars. Leaves, silver and blue, glittered and danced with the wind from up in the branches like a replacement. He huffed out a laugh when one of them fell right on top of his head, and shook it off.

Almost as if it was second nature, he followed the worn stone paths under his feet, rocks that crumbled with time and weary use, and made his way through the forest. He took a sharp turn near a mushroom-ridden log, then two more turns left, one after the other. If he strained his ears, he could already hear the stream of water that lapped at the river bank.

A sudden, cracking noise made Patton freeze. He stepped back instinctively, only to find it had been just a stick he’d stepped on.

As far as he knew. Patton bit his lip. The night shrouded the way — he could see little more than the light and the dark. Just about anything could be hiding under the forest floor and he’d have no clue… He huddled further into his cloak as he carried on. Small sparks of magic glowed around him, brighter as he neared the heart of the woods, but it still wasn’t quite enough to dissuade his worries. He could always shake on a flask-light to be sure… but the risk of being caught wouldn’t be worth it.

A stray blade of tall grass dragged across his ankle, scraping at his skin in the same way it did the time he had run, and the wind still swept over him with a promise of freedom. Following it once only left him tied in tighter strings. The thought of it made him shiver. Yes, he’d rather try his luck with the dark.

Patton shook his head, taking a turn behind an oak tree and skipping into a new trail, this one made by his own feet. He really needed to get his nerves in order. Winter was over, and he hadn’t been outdoors in so long — he should be happy! He’d taken this path before, it wasn’t dangerous, he couldn’t let silly little worries like that bring his mood down. He nodded, to reassure himself, if anything, and kept on going, ducking under branches until he could peek out the treeline and find the night sky again. Patton allowed himself a small smile. Especially when sights like these awaited him.

Moonlight bounced around the glade, rippling through the water and making the lake’s surface shimmer like stardust. He wandered into the clearing, watching with awe as even the bugs glowed! Fireflies, like shifting constellations, flew circles all over the pond and the trees. He sat down by a rock to wait, taking it all in. The trek here wasn’t all pleasant, no, but it was worth it. Patton pulled his bag into his lap, fidgeting with the strap. And if the time was right, he should arrive soon.

A rustling of leaves drew his gaze towards the trees, from where a dark-cloaked figure stepped out. Now, speak of the devil… Patton stood up quickly to wave the man over. A large-brimmed hat covered his face in shadow, but emerald-green scales shimmered where a sliver of light hit them — from the left side of his temple to the bottom of his jaw. The faerie’s golden serpent’s eye narrowed at Patton, something like amusement, and he sauntered over towards him, fingers clicking against his shepherd’s crook.

“Dee!” Patton called out, grinning wide as he approached.

“My, my, what an enthusiastic greeting,” he drawled, a smirk on his lips. “Why, it’s almost as if you haven’t seen me all season.”

“I haven’t.” Patton chuckled, rolling his eyes.

“Now, are you quite sure?” he said, slithering a circle around Patton with the shepherd’s crook. He waved his hand around with a smile, not a drop coy. “See, I was under the impression humans grew as they aged, yet you remain as small as ever. I must be mistaken, surely, how could that much time have passed?”

Patton snorted, crossing his arms. The other knew very well how humans worked, Dee just couldn’t lose an opportunity to tease him. Patton didn’t know how a faerie could say things like that without getting tongue-tied — although the man did have a reputation for twisting words like braided thread, enough to earn him an alias out of it.

“Deceit!”

Dee chuckled in response, raising a single hand in surrender.

“Very well, very well,” he said, leaning over his cane to peer at Patton, with that narrowed-eye look he thought was so mysterious. Patton stifled a laugh, staring back up at him. He was far past being tricked by that impression of aloofness. Anyone who knew Dee well enough knew he was about as soft as cotton candy, no matter how much he’d resent you saying it.

A beat later, Deceit smirked, bringing a hand to his own cheek in a mock-wiping gesture. “You’ve done your moniker justice today, Cinders.”

Patton blinked. Sheepishly, he tried to rub the ashes off his face, with little luck.

“Ah, she had me clean the fireplace again.”

Deceit paused, at that. His smug expression fell into that pinched look he’d always gotten whenever Patton mentioned The Faerie. Patton couldn’t quite place it, even now. Deceit tapped his staff against the ground.

“I see,” he said, softer. He sighed, averting his eyes. “I assume you’ve brought something for me, today?”

He let Dee change the topic and nodded, throwing the yellow patched bag over his shoulder and reaching inside.

“These pieces were inspired by something a little more personal, this time, I hope you don’t mind,” he said casually, handing Deceit a square piece of yellow fabric.

The other took it, inspecting it carefully. He smoothed his thumb over the embroidered thread, shaped into a small bird cradled into the coils of a serpent. Held, not squeezed.

“A snake,” he commented, a smile pulling at his lips. “What a cruel muse.”

Patton smiled back, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I wouldn’t say cruel.”

“Well, I see your craftsmanship improves by the day,” Deceit said, as he folded the patch of cloth and slipped it into his jacket. “You’ve had time to practice, haven’t you?”

“Far too much,” he shook his head, laughing. “I don’t think I’ll ever see a needle the same way again.”

“And your… collection?”

“It’s not ready,” Patton fiddled with the stitching on his sleeve. “Yet,” he added.

Deceit tilted his head. “Wishing for good things this spring?”

“Always.”

“The wild folk at the market will be clamoring over your work,” he gestured to his suit pocket. “If you’ve kept up this quality.”

“I sure hope so!” Patton said, pulling up his bag to show Deceit his newest pieces, the ones he hadn’t made for him. “If all goes well, I’ll be able to get some good trades today.”

Deceit sifted through them, as if analyzing each and every stitch. “Beautiful,” the faerie murmured. “I have no doubt you will. With your skill, you could land an apprenticeship with the best weavers of the courts, if you wished to.”

Silence trailed behind his words, hanging over them both for one heavy moment. Patton looked to the ground. He couldn’t afford to imagine how it would be after this was over. Not until it was over.

“I know,” he finally said, and smiled, strained, as he reached underneath his cloak to unclasp his necklace. “But it’s not something I can have.”

Deceit looked at him, worried and full of sympathy, before he accepted the small citrine pendant into his palm. He knew it too, just as well as Patton did. He closed his hand over the jewel and pressed it to his chest, every bit as resigned.

Then, his eyes began to simmer with a yellow glow, both of them, and spells — words and phrases Patton could not recognize — poured from his lips. When he splayed his hand open again, wisps of lights whirled around the crystal and settled on its surface.

“Dí aimshni,” Dee said, and his words tied their deal as a ribbon around them both. He handed the necklace back to Patton, who felt as the magic sunk into his skin.

“It is done,” he repeated — this phrase, he knew. Deceit nodded, circling around him to walk away, but not before settling a hand on Patton’s shoulder. He leaned in close.

“The glamour should last you until the full moon reaches the sky again,” he whispered. “Change is coming, please be safe, mhi-naistdh.”

When Patton turned back around, Deceit was gone — as the breeze that settled over the clearing. The magic under that name lingered over him as it always did when Dee used it, warm and comforting as a quilted blanket, though he had yet to figure out what it meant.

He padded over to the lake, kneeling down to peek into the water as he fixed the necklace around his throat. Strings of yellow light seeped out of the pendant as it touched his skin, coiling around him. He shut his eyes, and when he opened them back up, the pond greeted him with a shifted reflection. Starry-silver freckles dotted his cheeks where once was soot, gold thread mixed into his messy strands of caramel hair, and when Patton touched the tips of his ears they were pointed, faerie-like. He smiled, pulling down the hood of his cloak as he stood, and sauntered out of the glade.

The forest shone much brighter with each step closer to the market, with the glow of enchantments and the fae who’d gathered for trading and conversation. After this first meeting, the woods were always much easier to navigate, he didn’t have to walk all that far to reach it. It was a small but significant affair, faeries of all kinds huddled over stalls and makeshift tables, sitting on wood stumps as their chatter echoed around the trees. The wild fae — who didn’t live by the gentry’s rules or bothered with the stifling air of revels. The ones who lived as free as the water that coursed through the creek.

Patton greeted a few familiar faces as he walked to his usual spot — and easily, he fell into chit-chat. He knew, of course, that the folk could be as dangerous as a waterfall, but like this, with the glamour, he felt… less nervous. He couldn’t rely on just favor, whether good or bad. And he never looked for trouble, still, but knowing they saw him as one of them when they talked to him, well, it sure made interacting with them much less nerve-wracking!

Patton readied his booth — improvised from a wooden cart and panels he hefted into place, but it served him well. He attended to the customers who’d ordered repairs and stitch jobs first and then began to splay out his pieces on the counter. Fae came and went by his little shop, throughout an hour or two, sometimes just to trade, sometimes staying for a conversation. Then, the market hit a lull in activity, but Patton didn’t mind a bit of a quiet moment.

He leaned onto his elbows and stared up at the sky from under his booth — by this hour, it was a tapestry of silver against black. Though the stars seemed… blurrier than usual. Patton slipped off his glasses and wrinkled his nose when he saw the lenses, smudged all over and foggy. He really ought to clean them more often. Setting the glasses by the counter, he turned to the back of his stall to search for a cloth.

Among his materials, he found an unused patch of fabric inside his sewing pouch that’d work fine for the job. Though, as he took it, he caught a glimpse of the box he hid under the booth — where he kept the trinkets he’d bartered for. Patton blinked. It was already much fuller now than it had been when he first arrived. Coins, jewels, and finery nearly reached the lid!

He kneeled down to touch it, rummaging through its contents, and he smiled. All of it, all of his collection, it had a purpose. Something he’d worked towards for years. He would convince The Faerie to trade his name back. It sounded foolish, he knew, it'd be a hard bargain to drive, and stars above maybe it'd take long, but until then, he’d gather all he could until she had no choice but to accept his offer.

Gently, he closed the box and pushed it further under the counter. At least he hoped she would.

And if things worked out as Patton hoped, that’d be sooner rather than later.

Song of the chapter: Echo Of My Shadow by AURORA

AN: janus is referred to as 'deceit' in this fic for fae reasons. no, you have not traveled back in time to 2019 😆

#sanders sides #patton sanders #patton angst #sanders sides fic #a wish your heart makes #royality #janus sanders

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sierrawitch · 3 months ago

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Journal Entries Masterpost

Online Safety Concerns for Practitioners

Visualization for the Clairvoyantly Impaired

Manifestation of the Spoken Word

On Religious Guilt

On Consistency

On Spirits & Animism

On Spirits & Animism pt2

On Freshwater

On Mental Health & the Spring Equinox

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elminx · 4 months ago

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2024 Year in Review

2024 was an intense year for me (and for most of us, I suspect). I like to look back at my year and see what happened because my memory is a bit weird, and without documentation, I can convince myself that I did absolutely nothing this year.

Since this is my public-facing account, I will talk here about the public side of things. The biggest thing that happened for me this year was that Meta announced they are now using all public content on their sites (Facebook, Insta, and Threads) to train their AI, which caused me to lock down all of my photography content. This sucks because I've been selling photography for years now, and (Instagram, especially) that's a way for new clients to find me.

Plus, I'm the kind of person who needs interaction with my art. I wish that I wasn't (and I definitely do make art entirely for myself). But I photograph things to share with other people. I needed an outlet. After some careful research, it turns out that Tumblr is one of the few sites that protects artists from AI crawlers!

So, I made myself an art page:

It's still in its infancy, but I'm proud of it. It's only my cemetery photography from Massachusetts, and I may end up making a second page for other photography I take, but I'm pretty happy with how this is going.

Here on my witchier side of Tumblr, I mostly posted about astrology (all transit stuff), Numerology, and Cottage Craft (food and projects).

I soup posted a bunch about French Onion soup for banishment, turning soup into a harvest ritual, and the soup I make when I'm too sick to witch about it.

Other random kitchen posts were about my Anti-Anxietea, Pesto to Beat the Winter Blues, my long-form lemonade recipe for cleansing and clearing out your space:

I wrote a lot about Numerology and have actually created a masterpost for this work that I will try to keep up with.

My favorite magical revelation for the year was in learning to create candles out of egg-shell molds to work the intentions of new beginnings - this is a practice I intend to incorporate into my life every spring around the Spring Equinox. I have plans for this concept; expect to see more as we roll into the new year.

I've also done quite a bit of work increasing my astrological offerings over on my Kofi site. You can get a natal birth chart reading, a transit report reading (comparing your birth chart to the month's transits), synastry (astrological compatibility) readings, or readings focused on how your chart aligns with the planets from a more magically minded perspective.

I have some big writing plans for the new year. I've been meaning to write about Naming for a while now, but it's tricky to quantify because I had to teach it to myself. I'd like to continue my series on Numerology since it gets so maligned in a lot of the magical community, and it's such a good resource for spell crafting. I still have a bunch of recipes I'd like to share, and I'd like to continue to document the parts of my practice that I can share and make public.

That said, I'm curious, friendly reader - what would you like to see more of from me in the year ahead? Feel free to respond to this, send me an ask, or a PM. You never know what could spark a whole series or maybe just a rant.

I hope all of our New Year's are kind.

-Minx

#personal #year in review #2024

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autumnalwalker · 2 years ago

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Solarpunk Witch Masterpost

Note: This is mostly just a repost of a prior post of mine, but with a more indicative title regarding its content and thus more suited to future linking and editing should I ever get around to revisiting the project and adding more.

So anyway, back when I was working on @thearchivistsjournal, I made the ambitious-but-perhaps-ill-advised attempt to simultaneously write a second ongoing journal-style story on a fixed chapter schedule. This became what I've referred to from time to time on this blog as the "Untitled Solarpunk Witch Story." It was my first attempt at writing dialogue and proper prose (as opposed to all epistolary journal format) so it came out pretty rough and I put the project on hold indefinitely. It's something I'd like to revisit one day once I feel I can better do the idea justice, but I'm fond enough of the concept that I thought it might be fun to share the couple of chapters that I wrote for that rough draft.

Also, I wrote it as a part of playing the solo journaling game "Village Witch" by Eliot Silvarian. The idea was that each week I'd do a tarot card draw and use the corresponding prompt from that game as my prompt for that week. And, similar to The Archivist's Journal, the time passing IRL would correspond to the time passing in the story, albeit broken up into bigger chunks.

So, anyway, without much further preamble, here are the links to those rough chapters:

Prologue: Setting Out

Vernal Equinox, Five of Pentacles

Spring, Week 1, Seven of Cups

Spring, Week 2, Three of Swords

Spring, Week 3, Ten of Swords

Spring, Week 4, The High Priestess

Spring, Week 5, Five of Swords

See also: The Witches' Testaments, a series of interviews serving as a prequel of sorts regarding how the world made the transition from cyberpunk dystopia to what's seen here.

Also, a bit of worldbuilding trivia as to why the familiars take the form of robotic animals: Link

#my writing #old writing #rough draft #solarpunk #witch #Untitled Solarpunk Witch Story #Village Witch #journaling game writing

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sourdoughservitor · 1 year ago

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Imbolc - Spring's Beginning

Originating from Gaelic tradition, this sabbat recognizes winter's gradual decay into spring. Snow melts, days begin to get longer, and plants spring up from the fresh soil. Animals become more active and the world begins to brighten. As a whole, Imbolc signifies a time for rebirth, rejuvenation, and new growth.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

This is the first festival of the Wheel of the Year, and marks the midpoint between the Winter Solstice (Yule) and the Spring Equinox (Ostara). It is held on February 01 each year. It is a powerful time for a witch to get in tune with the Earth and its natural cycles, and to align oneself with nature's processes.

Witchy practices for Imbolc:

show gratitude for the Earth, for nature, and for the coming of spring

plant seeds for your indoor or outdoor garden

care for and fertilize your plants

eat mindfully and thankfully

clean your home, both physically and spiritually (spring cleaning & cleansing)

make concrete, actionable plans to reach your goals

reaffirm love to loved ones, friends, companion animals

create blessed/holy water, and use it to bless one's home and loved ones

Brigid

Although I am an agnostic witch, Imbolc is closely associated with the deity Brigid (or St. Brigid). Brigid watches over and protects Ireland, Scotland, and the Isle of Man, and as such many witches, pagans, and even Christians feast or celebrate Imbolc as a method of worship and reverence.

The Brigid's Cross is a decoration woven traditionally from corn reeds and hung over doors and windows to protect from negative entities and unwanted spirits.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚✿˖°˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚✿˖°˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆˚✿˖°

Happy Imbolc, witches! Rejoice as today marks the last day of winter. Spring awaits, and with it good tidings. Take care of yourselves and stay warm.

see my Year of the Wheel masterpost for more!

#witchblr #witches of tumblr #witchcraft #witchy things #witches #online grimoire #wheel of the year #year of the wheel #digital grimoire #sabbat #imbolc

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lunavenefica · 3 years ago

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⛤Mabon Spells, Part I⛤

Before we start, I’d like to inform you that this topic has been broken down in 3 posts since I’d like to share some Spells, Deity Spells and Kitchen Magic, before the actual celebration, to make the entire thing more readable and give our fellow witches enough time to get ready!

I will also share a Mabon Masterpost with all the content I’ve posted regarding the festivity.

This is a list of spells that are a MUST for Mabon!

⛤An Acorn Mabon Spell for Prosperity

⛤Ingredients:

An acorn

Marker or paint with paintbrush

Small spell bag or sachet

Small bell (you can get these from craft shops)

⛤How to:

Cleanse your space in whatever way you prefer.

Set the magical Mabon mood – turn on music, burn incense, light a few candles, etc.

Gather your ingredients and tools.

Cast a circle, if you so choose, and invoke the elements.

Hold your acorn in your hands and envision prosperity flowing from the acorn into your hands and through your entire body like a soft orange light.

Keep the acorn in your left hand and pick up the little bell in your right.

Say the following 9 times:

“Blessings of oak, earth and the Mabon season.

Flow through this acorn into my home.

Each time the front door opens,

The Mabon bell rings and prosperity flows in.”

Now draw or paint the Mabon symbol onto the acorn

Place the acorn and bell in the small bag.

Thank the earth, Mabon spirits, and energies present. (Release your circle if you cast one).

Hang the Mabon spell bag on your front door, until the Autumn season has ended.

Then bury the acorn near the front door. Cleanse and re-use the bell.

⛤A Mabon Bath Spell for Balance

Wherever balance is needed, decide you’re ready to improve those things and cast this Mabon spell.

⛤What You’ll Need:

Sunflower petals: linked to the Sun and properties include good luck and joy.

Also a traditional herb used on Mabon.

Chamomile: also linked to the Sun and properties include prosperity and warding off negative energy.

Rosemary: for purification, health, and clarity of mind and memory

3 crystals (of your choice, but I recommend clear quartz, citrine, and amber)

Muslin bag (optional)

⛤How to:

Cleanse the space and set the mood. Turn down the lights and turn on some music, if you choose.

Light a candle or two.

Draw a warm bath and add the herbs to the water (if you have a bag, add your herbs to the bag and then to the water. This makes clean-up much easier!)

Place the 3 crystals around 3 sides of the bathtub (not in the water, but on the tub itself).

Get in and soak while focusing on balance.

Meditate on what balance means to you and how you could use more of it.

You can chant or repeat the following incantation:

“I invoke the energies of Mabon,

On a day of balance,

We welcome the Autumn season,

May the balance of night and day

Bring my life balance in every way.”

Soak in the bath for as long as you feel it’s necessary.

Then emerge feeling balanced within yourself and all around you.

⛤Quick Balance Spell

Mabon is observed on an equinox, a time when there are equal parts of light and day. It is the perfect time to reassess and work toward balance in all parts of your life.

⛤You’ll need:

Black candle

White candle

A pen

Some paper

⛤How to:

Set up your altar to reflect the harvest.

Place a black and a white candle on opposite sides of the altar, and place a piece of parchment in between them.

On this paper, write down the aspects of your life that you feel need to be brought into balance.

As you contemplate those aspects, light the candles and say:

"As day and night are now in balance,

so to let my life find balance."

⛤Mabon Ritual

This is a ritual to honor the duality of life and death, sadness and celebration.

⛤You’ll need:

White Candle

Black Candle

A red apple

Some spring flowering bulbs

⛤How to:

Place one white and one black candle on your altar.

In the center, place one red apple to represent Avalon, the Land of Apples where some traditions believe Mabon was held captive

As a symbol of rebirth, also have on hand a small bowl of spring-flowering bulbs

Light the candles and say:

"You walk the paths of darkness and

light,

You do not fear the coming of the night.

Again you'll rise from the mists of

Avalon,

For you are Mabon, the Great Son."

As a lasting tribute to this holiday, plant the bulbs. When they bloom in the spring, you'll remember Mabon and the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth.

⛤Isidora⛤

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randomtable · 2 years ago

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Random Calendar Builder: Solar Calendars

This is part one of a series on calendars I am planning! See this master post for more calendar content as I post it: https://www.tumblr.com/randomtable/713543620842700800/random-calendar-series-masterpost?source=share

Year length:

(how many days does it take for the planet to revolve around the sun?) The year is 7d100 days long.

Now, divide this year length by 4 to find the length of your planet’s seasons. *If the result is a fraction or decimal: 1/4 or .25 means one season will be one day longer than the others. 1/2 or .5 means two seasons will be one day longer than the others. 3/4 or .75 means three seasons will be one day longer than the fourth. The length of seasons is also the number of days between the solstices and equinoxes.

1d8 Days to Start The Year On: 1. The day after the Winter Solstice, when nights are just beginning to grow longer. The New Year is celebrated as a time of hope, of starting an upward journey after hitting a low point. New Years celebrations might include light-based decorations, songs about light and hope, and making plans for self improvement. 2. A day between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox, which is the anniversary of the dawn of the ruling dynasty who implemented this calendar. (Feel free to select the exact day randomly). The New Year is celebrated as a patriotic event. New Years celebrations might include flying emblems or flags, nationalist and propaganda songs, and speeches or addresses from leaders and politicians. 3. The day of the Spring Equinox, when cold is giving way to warmth, and it is time for planting and for baby animals to be born. The New Year is celebrated as a time of rebirth and new beginnings, and it may be personified as an infant or baby animal. New Years celebrations might include imagery of flowers, eggs, and babies, time spent planting crops or gardens, and songs about joy and rebirth. 4. A day between the Spring Equinox and Summer Solstice, which is the birthday of a deity or other important religious figure. (Feel free to select the exact day randomly) The new year is celebrated as a religious feast day. New Years celebrations might include prayers and songs to the holy figure, feasts in their name, and religious services. 5. The day after the Summer Solstice, when the days are long and hot. The New Year is celebrated as a time of rest, taking a break from hard work and hot sun. New Years celebrations might include observing a day without work, gifts like hats and parasols that protect from the sun, and activities like swimming to cool off or sharing chilled food and drinks. 6. A day between the Summer Solstice and Autumn Equinox, which is the anniversary of the death of a deity or other important religious figure.The New Year is observed as a somber day of religious reflection, where the year that passed may also be treated as a living thing which has died. New Years customs might include fasting or making other sacrifices, lengthy prayers, and wearing veils or other mourning clothes. 7. The day of the Autumn Equinox, when the harvest is in full swing. The New Year is celebrated as a time of bounty and of preparation for the long nights of winter ahead. New Years celebrations might include feasting, songs wishing farewell to the times of plenty and to the sun, and expressing gratitude to the earth, to a deity of fertility, or to farmers for a bountiful harvest. 8. A day between the Autumn Equinox and the Winter Solstice, which is thought to be the anniversary of the creation of the world itself. (Feel free to select the exact day randomly). The New Year is observed as a serious but joyful religious holiday. New Years traditions might include offerings to the god or gods of creation, prayer and song about their power and might, and excursions into the wilderness to behold their creation in its natural state.

Months:

The year is divided into 5d4 months, which may or may not be roughly based on the lunar cycle*. Divide the year length by the number of months to get the length of the months. It’s likely this number won’t be even. If it isn’t, multiply the fraction/decimal by the number of months to get the number of extra days.

1d4 Things to do with Extra Days 1. Make months unequal: distribute the days among certain months, so that some are a day longer than others. 2. Add these days as extra holidays between months: These days aren’t considered part of a particular month, rather falling between the months and being days of rest or celebration. Try to distribute them equally, if you can. 3. Add these days as a multi-day holiday at the end of the year: this extra time becomes an extended period to prepare for the new year, following the tradition rolled on the previous table. 4. Add these days as a multi-day holiday in the middle of the year: this extra time is a mid-year break, situated between two months near the midway point of the year. You can consult the previous table for what this festival might be for, based on what time of year it occurs, or make up something else.

Weeks:

Your calendar’s weeks are informed by how its months are divided. Here are some options for weeks, noting which types of months they work for.

Perfect Weeks: (Does not work for unequal months.) If there is a number between 5-10 that your month length can be evenly divided by, then this can be the length of your week. For calendars with extra days between months, those extra days are also considered to be between weeks.

Unequal Weeks: (Works for any type of months.) Your months are divided into a number of weeks. In order to make that number whole, some of your weeks are a day longer than others.

One Short Week: (Does not work for calendars with extra days added as a multi-day holiday.) Weeks are 1d4+4 days long. If this number does not divide evenly by how long your year is, the remaining days are treated as a multi-day holiday at the end of the year. (Note that this holiday is still considered part of the last month of the year.)

Earth-like Weeks: (Works for any type of months.) Weeks are 1d4+4 days long and do not change or reset at the end of the year or month. What day of the week the year or the month begins on varies from year to year and month to month. If you have holidays that are between months, the weeks should also skip these holidays.

*Bonus: Lunar Cycles in Solar Calendars (Under the Cut)

If your year does not divide perfectly into the number of months you rolled, then your lunar cycle will not stay aligned with your months. For simplicity’s sake, we’ll assume that your base month is the actual length of a lunar cycle. You can plot these lunar cycles out on your calendar just like we do on Earth, and you’ll see that they quickly become misaligned with the months.

(Warning, math ahead!) The “extra days” you calculated before are called the Epact, the difference in length between the solar and lunar years. You can subtract the Epact from the year length to determine the lunar year length, and use those numbers to determine extra information about the alignments of the solar and lunar calendars: * A purely lunar calendar (with no leap months added to re-align with the solar year) will cycle through the seasons, so over several years what seasons happen in which months will shift. To determine the length of this cycle, divide the solar year length by the Epact. This tells you how many years it takes before the seasons re-align in the lunar calendar. (On Earth, it takes 33 years.) If the result is a whole number, then the lunar and solar calendars will have the same New Years Day if they both began on the same day initially. (If it isn’t a whole number, how often they line up is a little bit more complicated: it’s equal to the least common multiple of the two different year lengths, divided by the length of the solar year.) * You can also determine how many years it takes before the cycles of the moon line up to the same days of the year again. This is equal to the least common multiple of the solar year length and the lunar cycle length (which is the base month length), divided by the solar year length.

#random table #random tables #ttrpg #ttrpg community #ttrpg homebrew #homebrew #fantasy #dnd #d&d #dungeons and dragons #dnd homebrew #dnd table #random worldbuilding #worldbuilding #ttrpg worldbuilding #genre neutral #random calendars #calendar building

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esoteric-chaos · 1 year ago

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Wheel of the Year Masterpost

Photo above is not mine

Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Edition

Imbolc

Imbolc Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Edition

Spring Equinox

Spring Equinox Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Edition

Beltane

Beltane Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Edition

Midsummer

Midsummer Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Edition

Lughnasadh

Lughnasadh Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Edition

Autumn Equinox

Autumn Equinox Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Edition

Samhain

Samhain Masterpost - Spoonie Witch Edition

Would you be interested in the rest of my posts? Check out the Masterpost.

Updated 5/01/24

#wheel of the year #winter solstice #summer solstice #spring equinox #beltane #midsummer #lughnasadh #autumn equinox #samhain #Imbolc #ostara

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jetaimin · 4 years ago

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bts fic recs : jimin

← go back to fic rec masterpost

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legends

fluff [ ✾ ] ; angst [ ✫ ] ; smut [ ❦ ] ; social media [ ☏ ]

PARK JIMIN

headcanons

unavailable

drabbles

✫ destroyer of worlds | apocalyptic! au — @readyplayerhobi

✾ tracing i love you into your skin | established relationship! au — @bubmyg

one-shots

✾ p(ass)enger from hell | airport! au — @dovechim

✾ soliloquy | angel! au — @kinktae

✾ warmth | barista! au — @sintatae

✾ october 13th | birthday! au — @heungtanbts

✾ i think i'm . . . | birthday! au — @kpopisthereasonihavenolife

✾ for me, it’s you | childhood friends! au — @kpopfanfictrash

✾ ✫ nothing a lil’ green can’t fix | childhood friends! au — @threeletterslife

✾ memories of old and new | christmas! au — @thatmultifandomhoe

✾ mutual muses | christmas! au — @army-author

✾ ✫ presage | clairvoyant! au — @eleventoes

✾ dandelion | college! au — @/kpopisthereasonihavenolife

✾ rich kid | college! au — @gukyi

✾ ✫ say anything | college! ay — @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong

✾ ✫ sinner | costars! au — @psycho-slytherin

✾ ✫ 3:00 am | dancers! au — @bigheartedsky

✾ ❦ insert quippy title here | deadpool! au —@/readyplayerhobi

✾ pizza crush | delivery guy! au — @v-hope

✾ kiss the girl | disney! au — @sketchguk

✾ ✫ taboo attachment | demon! au — @/kpopisthereasonihavenolife

✾ ✫ ❦ the devil’s own luck | demon! au — @jimlingss

✾ earnestly yours | drama club! au — @/gukyi

✾ ✫ honey | established relationship! au — @bangtanfancamp

✫ serendipity | established relationship! au — @pasteljeon

✾ somewhere only we know | established relationship! au — @golden-yoongi

✾ ✫ type 2 | established relationship! au — @/thatmultifandomhoe

✫ wrecked | exes! au — @hollyhomburg

✾ ✫ yeah, i'm drunk and you're wearing my t-shirt | exes! au — @taetaespeaches

✾ starburst | extra-terrestrial! au — @justimajin

✾ ✫ azure blue | fairy! au — @/jimlingss

✾ ✫ partiality | family! au — @jiminimoon

✾ ✫ a kiss of poison | fantasy! au — @/jiminlingss

✾ ✫ crystal snow | fantasy! au — @minniepetals

✾ ✫ equinox | fantasy! au — @crystaljins

✾ ❦ cupid’s bow | friends to lovers! au — @tayegi

✾ ❦ meddling | friends to lovers! au — @joonsgalore

✾ ✫ oh my my my | friends to lovers! au — @ughseoks

✫ cry me a galaxy | guardian angel! au —@/army-author

✾ schrödinger’s cat | guardian angel! au — @/dovechim

✾ �� ❦ bloom | hanahaki! au — @jamaisjoons

✾ poster boy | high school! au — @versigny

✾ ✫ amortentia | hogwarts! au — @jkslug

✾ ✫ ❦ blood runs pure | hogwarts! au — @opaljm

✾ boats against the current | hogwarts! au — @/gukyi

✾ ✫ lonely | hogwarts! au — @btsinned

✾ the howler | hogwarts! au — @bangtan-insfired

✾ ✫ noise of the jungle | idolverse! au — @glassbangtan

✾ ✫ heartbreak insurance | love service! au — @/jimlingss

✾ ✫ ❦ faded love | marriage! au — @/jamaisjoons

✾ ✫ ‘til death due us part | marriage! au — @/jimlingss

✾ ✫ beneath the water | merman! au — @jungshookz

✾ fairytail | merman! au — @/gukyi

✾ ✫ 20 things ( and counting ) i hades about you | mythology! au — @/readyplayerhobi

✾ ✫ astilbe | mythology! au — @hoonieistrash

✾ ✫ eden | mythology! au — @/kpopisthereasonihavenolife

✾ ✫ ❦ worshippers of the spring | mythology! au — @/jimlingss

✾ cordially, jimin | office! au — @/kpopfanfictrash

✾ ✫ ephemera | penpals! au — @akinnie75

✾ ✫ ❦ park jimin’s cock(pit) | pilot! au — @/jimlingss

✾ ✫ ❦ lost and found | rehab! au — @kimvtae

✾ ✫ ❦ blue blood | royal! au — @joonbird

✾ ✫ pick pocketing the crown jewels | royal! au — @/glassbangtan

✫ heraklion station | sci-fi! au — @/readyplayerhobi

✾ ❦ star light, star bright | single parent! au — @/readyplayerhobi

✾ ✫ find our way | skater boy! au — @cupofteaguk

✾ ✫ ❦ daffodil rings | soulmate! au — @vanaera

✾ ✫ ❦ eternal sunlight | soulmate! au — @kidguk

✾ ✫ even so | soulmate! au — @itsamejin

✾ ✫ lottery | soulmate! au — @rubycoast

✾ ✫ twist of fate | soulmate! au — @ttttaehyungie

✾ ✫ ❦ perfect pebble | strangers to lovers! au — @sincerelyourfangirl

two-shots / three-shots / series

✾ ✫ defense mechanism | art school! au — @evangelene

✾ ✫ if the shoe fits | ballet! au — @stars-that-shine-at-night

✾ ✫ colour of our voices | broadway! au — @/jimlingss

✾ ✫ ❦ i'll never be her | complicated relationship! au — @anon-luv

✾ ✫ ❦ a remedy for mondays | coworkers + fake pregnancy! au — @/dovechim

✾ the deli diaries | coworkers! au — @/jimlingss

✾ ✫ interference | crime mystery! au — @minnochu

✾ ✫ no stage | dancers! au — @becomingbts

✾ ❦ love me now? | devil! au — @/kpopisthereasonihavenolife

✾ ✫ ❦ temporary bliss | fake dating! au — @/sincerelyourfangirl

✾ ✫ magic & mysteries | fantasy! au — @/jimlingss

✾ ✫ just happened to be | gang! au — @/evangelene

✾ ✫ ❦ a serpent’s flower | hogwarts! au — @/jimlingss

✾ ✫ the parting | reaper! au — @/minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong

✾ home is where the heart is | single parent! au — @bangtanfanfiction

✾ ✫ our little family | single parent! au — @nightbts

✾ ✫ the promised iris | soulmate! au — @/akinnie75

✾ ✫ would i choose you? | superhero! au — @/crystaljins

#this took so ridiculously long #and now i have a killer headache and backpain #hello to all 57 talented writers in this list #park jimin #jimin fic rec #bts fic recs #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin x you #jimin series #jimin one shot #jimin scenario #jimin drabble #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut

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thran-duils · 4 years ago

Text

Key to the Garden (P.1)

Title: Key to the Garden (Part One) Summary: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Witch Reader (main pairing), but on the side, Dark!Tony Stark x Reader, Dark!Sam Wilson x Reader, Dark!Zemo x Reader. Y/N lives in one of the many fringe covens with her family along with a few other small families that did not want to be roped into the powerhouse coven community, Shield, ran by the Maximoff, Stark, Wilson, and Zemo witch and warlock legacies. Y/N’s grandmother had a run in with the coven community in her youth and she is mostly mum about the incident, but makes it clear that Y/N should stay as far away as she can from them. But when the Shield community discovers where their community is and demands they send someone to teach at their school for upcoming magical beings with threats and when it is demanded that someone from the Y/L/N family be the volunteer, Y/N does not resist to make sure no one else is subjected to them, much to her grandmother’s dismay. Little does Y/N know that a particular head in the community had been searching for them for a very long time and she is going to satisfy a very, very long held grudge. Word Count: 1,893 Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, dub-con, emotional manipulation, imprisonment, orgy, forced pregnancy, death, violence, 18+

Introduction || Part Two || Masterpost mobile || Fanfic masterpost

Your grandmother grasped your hand tightly as you told the soldiers you would go with them in her stead. Your grandmother had foolishly thought that you would allow her to go from the coven to the Shield Academy, the place she had warned you about since you were able to walk. Locking eyes, you saw the terror in her eyes and guilt washed over knowing you were making her feel that. But you were also doing this for her so she did not have to go. She deserved to be able to relax in her old age and live out her days protected in your coven. You had decades upon decades ahead of you.

Tearing your hand from hers, you told her, “Be well. The willow rejuvenates.”

Tears that had been gathering at the corners of her eyes spilled over as she saw you turn away, being guided into the carriage to take you away.

<><><>

Wanda came down the spiral, stone stairs from her tower in a rush. The servants of the academy went against the wall when they saw her coming, backs straight, giving her a deep bow. The hallway was at least fifteen feet across, more than enough space, but it was done out of respect and custom. They would be berated if they walked past her or any of the other leaders. The custom was not bestowed upon merely the teachers.

Turning the corner to face a flight of stairs, she spotted Sam waiting at the bottom. He was waiting for her having known she had been up in her tower for the better part of the morning.

“Heard that they’re back with two carriages from the other covens,” Sam said to Wanda, falling into side beside her as she walked.

“I didn’t see a second, but I saw the one,” Wanda replied.

“Was it who you were hoping? Was it Elena?”

“No.”

Sam’s face screwed up in confusion and said, “Well, maybe they screwed up.”

“They didn’t,” Wanda said clipped, which only served to confuse him more. She sensed his bewilderment and she offered tightly, “I know she’s from the right coven. It was like I was seeing a ghost when she came out of the carriage.”

Sam ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, contemplating as they turned a corner towards the front door. The students in the hall parted seeing two of their leaders, giving them curt bows that Sam and Wanda ignored in turn. Much like with the servants, they were not equals to their leaders.

In quieter tones, Sam asked, “Well, do you think she is going to be able to provide the same—”

“I’m not sure, Sam,” Wanda cut in sharply, an air of annoyance about her.

She was high strung, that much was clear to Sam. She had been ever since she had figured out where Elena was and sent their soldiers out to retrieve someone from the coven, preferably Elena. Wanda had given instructions to suggest her, wanting Elena to make the decision on her own because she knew how altruistic Elena was. She wanted Elena to choose to come back to her, even if it was through unscrupulous means.

The other leaders of the academy – Sam, Tony, and Helmut – knew of the shared past with Elena and Wanda. She had not shared the finer details of their relationship past they had worked together, but Wanda knew the men were not daft – they could discern the intimacy that Wanda and Elena had shared. Had shared… before Elena pulled away, taking her power and just as important, her affection with her, leaving Wanda alone.

When Wanda stepped down into the entrance hall and was faced with this woman, she felt her skin was on fire. All the past touches, and late nights wrapped in each other’s arms came rushing back to her. It took everything in her to not stride forward and encompass the woman to her as if she was coming back from a long journey and was finally back home safe. Wanda only outwardly flinched in her fingers in her inner turmoil.

The young woman’s features were even more strikingly similar to Elena up close. A picturesque witch that threatened from the moment Wanda laid eyes on her to drag her under her spell. Wanda’s lips parted, feeling as if her breath was stolen from her. She was stronger than this, she need not fall under this woman’s spell. But her nose, her lips, the hair… it all tugged at Wanda. The eyes were different though. That may be for the better, Wanda thought to herself. It would help her to prevent herself from confusing the two completely and allowing her past feelings to overtake her in the presence of this woman.

Behind the woman trailed a Cross fox that was curiously looking around the entrance hall. Wanda admired the coloring of it. Its face and legs were black, with trails of black throughout the rest of its orange fur. It was sleek, its eyes piercing. She would need to be careful around this creature.

The woman came closer to Sam and Wanda, reading the signs from the surrounding guard that they were the people she needed to be greeting with how they were standing erect and leaving them their space. She smiled warmly and Wanda felt a pang. The smile was so similar to the one Elena used to give her lovingly.

“Thank you for the comfortable carriage,” the woman said in an even tone.

Wanda saw past the civility though; she was not happy she was collected and taken away. And that was only prodding gently at her mind because she was unable to penetrate further. Wanda’s jaw ticked; Elena had certainly trained her family against mind manipulation; she was going to be unable to capitalize on that. The girl had a solid wall up and all Wanda could do was scratch at the surface.

She gave a curt bow and Wanda gave a tight lipped smile in return. Sam was ever careful about his reactions, gauging what he should do depending on Wanda. Sam bowed his head in acknowledgment towards the girl.

“Your name?” Wanda asked.

“Y/N.”

Wanda savored the way the name would roll off her tongue, her mind flashing to whispering the name in late night corridors, beckoning her to her chambers.

“I’m Wanda. This is Sam. We are two of the four leaders at the school. The others – Tony and Helmut – you’ll meet later at dinner. Along with the other teachers of course.”

“Pleasured. I’ve heard a lot about the reputation of this school. I sadly never attended due to the nature of my coven.”

“Every coven has their own rules, and we respect that.” That was a lie. Wanda wanted every coven under her rule, but it served her now to lie. “You must be tired. Can they gather your things, and you can come inside to have us show you to your quarters?”

Y/N patted her thigh and ordered, “Ember.” The fox came to her side and sat down obediently.

“An impressive choice for a familiar,” Sam told her. “Not very conspicuous to have one trotting after you.”

With an amused smile, Y/N told him, “Oh, she is not a familiar. She’s my pet. My familiar Nyx is somewhere. My cat. She took off as soon as I opened the door, but she will come back. Is that frowned upon?”

“No, familiars are allowed to roam as long as they don’t cause trouble,” Sam answered.

“I promise she won’t. I’m not expecting danger here.”

She was calculated that much Wanda was gathering right now. That last sentence especially was insinuating she was on her toes with the flash in her eyes, ready for them to betray her.

Wanda gestured towards the front door, “We can give a brief tour on the way to your rooms. They’ll bring your things, don’t worry about that.”

Y/N walked forward, the fox following behind. Wanda was taking note the fox looked extremely protective of Y/N. She would soon have to figure out how to separate them or gain the fox’s trust. The latter seemed more likely if she played her cards right.

On the way to her rooms, a long-haired white cat came running up the hall and came to stride in front of them, tossing looks over its shoulder at Y/N, Wanda, and Sam.

Wanda’s brow furrowed; she had never seen this cat before. And that is when she realized it was Y/N’s familiar. The cat was leveling Wanda with a hard gaze even in its brief glances at both her and Sam; it did not trust them, She could sense that.

Playing it cool, Wanda gave a little chuckle, catching Y/N’s attention.

“You named a white cat Nyx,” Wanda commented, amused. “You’ll need a sense of humor around here.”

<><><>

After settling Y/N into her chambers, Wanda had brought Sam away to go towards the south tower where Tony and Helmut were prepping for the spring equinox. Spell bags were scattered along the table, ones they would hand out to select students and allow them to cast them themselves to they could bring renewal to the academy.

Tony caught sight of them entering and noticed her demeanor. “What’s going on?”

“The new recruits we sent for are here.”

“Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?” Helmut questioned, a layer of confusion in his tone at Wanda’s stiffness.

Wanda grabbed a handful of jasmine petals from the stone bowl at the end of the room, heading towards the alter. “We are still going to need a sacrifice. Maybe a handful until she gets on board.”

Tony shrugged, “We were expecting that. But light at the end of the tunnel. With Elena here now, you’ll have to work less eventually.”

“She’s not here,” Wanda clipped, her body stiff with her frustration.

Tony’s brow furrowed, “What?”

“She didn’t come.” It sounded like it was difficult for her to admit that. Like she had personally failed.

“Then what is going on?” Helmut asked, taking a step forward towards her away from where he was prepping.

She held a hand up and he stopped. His eyes flicked to her palms, knowing what she was capable of. The three men were powerful, but they could not hold a candle to her if they took her on on their own.

“The plan is going forward as we planned.”

“How without Elena?” Tony asked, sounding short of patience now.

“I have her blood still.”

“Did you go drain her?” Tony asked, his tone getting tighter, breeching on sarcastic. He was an impatient person and had little room for the appetite to put up with people toying with him.

“No,” Wanda said dismissively, walking past them to go throw her petals into the alter for good fortune and protection.

Sam came up beside Tony and Helmut, hands in his pockets. Out the corner of his mouth he said, “The granddaughter came. Wanda is in a tizzy. She expected a crone, and she got the fertile, spitting image.” Tony and Helmut both were heedful at the mention of fertile and Sam did not miss it, a smirk breaking out. Finally turning his head, he met Tony’s eyes and then Helmut’s briefly each before walking forward and grabbing the jasmine petals to offer.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl @namjoonwatcheshentai

Fic tags: @ivybarns

#dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!tony stark #dark!sam wilson #dark!helmut zemo #dark!baron zemo #dark marvel #my shit #tony stark x reader #sam wilson x reader #baron zemo x reader

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