#witch glossary

[grimmstar-grimmoire]

Glossary of Witchy Terms [**Updated**]

Acolyte

One who attends or assists in a ritual, service, or procession.

Adept

A person who is skilled in magic, witchcraft, or mysticism.

Affirmation

The assertion that something is true, it exists, and you believe in it. Affirmations are a powerful tool in witchcraft.

Alchemy

In many ways a precursor to modern chemistry, alchemy was generally considered to be the science of turning one thing into another thing through physical and chemical processes (in its literal interpretation) or refining something (like the soul) into a better or more perfect version (in its metaphorical usage).

Alexandrian

A tradition of Wicca descended from the teachings of Alex Sanders, the "King of Witches."

Altar

The ritual workspace; a table, shelf, or other dedicated area where witches practice their craft. For some witches, altars can be a place of regular spells, rituals, and magical workings, for others, it is simply a sacred space where they place symbolic objects

Amulet/Talisman

An object which has been ascribed magical powers, or with which intentions have been set. A kind of ‘good luck charm’, carried with them. Often added to charm bags, spell bottles, or carried in the pocket or purse.

Anoint

To smear or rub with oil

Arcana

The two halves of a tarot deck; divided into Major and Minor; Major consists of 22 trumps while the minor consists of 56 suit cards.

Arcane

Ancient or secret wisdom

Archetype

Universal images and symbols commonly used to represent deities in forms that we can understand

Asperger

A bundle of fresh herbs or a perforated object use to sprinkle water before, during, or after a ritual for purification purposes

Astral Body

The astral body is the psychic or spirit form that we take on when astral traveling. Some describe it as the soul.

Astral Plane

A state of existence which you go to when astral projecting or doing astral magic. It is reached through altered states of consciousness where the* **astral body* is free from the material body.

Astral Travel

Also known as astral projection. It is where the soul leaves the body and enters the astral plane, where they can observe, encounter, and interact with spiritual beings and entities. Unlike an ‘out of body experience’, it involves an intentional effort to direct your soul from your body.

Astrology

The study of the stars, constellations, zodiacs, and planets.

Athame

A ceremonial knife or blade which is used to channel and direct energy and cast protective circles. As the blade itself is not traditionally used for cutting, it is often beautiful, rather than functional. If the ritual, ceremony, or spell requires cutting, a different knife (or boline) is used.

Aura

An aura is a subtle energetic field that surrounds objects, places, and living things. It’s undetectable to the human eye, however some people train to be able to detect and ‘read’ auras.

Baby Witch

(Often considered derogatory) A new, inexperienced witch. It is advised to only use this label if it is self-applied, and a label you wish to use.

Balefire

The traditional bonfire of the Sabbats, still used in many pagan celebrations

Banish

Magically send away or repel, especially negative energies or entities, from a person, home, or ritual area.

Bell

Ritual tool used to invoke directional energies, ring in the sunrise on a sabbat, stir up energies, or frighten away faeries and harmful spirits.

Beltane

Also known as ‘May Eve’, ‘Beltaine’, ‘Bealtaine’, or ‘May Day’. Held on the 1st of May, and one of the eight sabbats, Beltane is an ancient fertility festival which marks the beginning of the planting cycle and ensures a bountiful harvest.

Besom

A traditional broomstick constructed of twigs tied to a sturdy pole. used to sweep clean a ritual space before practicing, though as this is more of a metaphorical cleaning, the besom usually does not touch the ground, but is used a few inches above ground. Small besoms are often used to clean the altar in much the same way.

Bind

To magically restrain

Birth Chart

Shows the positions and houses all the planets were in at the time you were born.

Black Magick

Refers to any magic which involves the use of negative energy or has the intent of malice or harm

Blessing

The use of magic to benefit an object or being.

Boline

Also spelled bolline *or *bolleen. A boline is a white-handled knife which, unlike the athame, is used for practical work before, or during spells and rituals, such as cutting herbs, cords, wands, etc. or inscribing candles. The boline sometimes has a small, straight blade, but a crescent-shaped blade is not uncommon.

Book of Shadows

A book of instructions for rituals and spells, often also containing religious text, and personal thoughts, the Book of Shadows was at first associated with the Wiccan *religion. They are now widely used by witches of all religious paths. Unlike the *Grimoire, the Book of Shadows has more of a ‘journal’ quality, since it is often used for recording experiences and emotions, rather than just ingredients and instructions.

Burning Times

A reference to a period during the Middle Ages when many witches and non-witches were executed by the church or by public officials for supposedly practicing witchcraft

Cardinal Points

North, South, East, and West, often marked by candles of green, red, yellow, and blue.

Cartomancy

Divination through the use of cards

Cauldron

A pot which was traditionally made of metal and used for cooking and boiling.

Censor

A heat-proof container used to burn incense; associated with element Air.

Ceremonial Magic

School or method of magical that places emphasis on long, complex rituals; often referred to as ritualism.

Chalice

A drinking vessel intended for ceremonial drinking.

Chakras

Chakras are the energy centers in the body, which are believed to be spinning disks that should be kept open and aligned for our spiritual and physical wellbeing. There are seven major chakras in the human body, as follows:

Root Chakra, Sacral Chakra, Solar Plexus Chakra, Heart Chakra, Throat Chakra, Third Eye Chakra, Crown Chakra

Channeling

A New Age word for mediumship, channeling involves allowing a spirit entity to speak through the channeler. The process is virtually impossible to prove and therefore does not enjoy a particularly good reputation.

Charge

To infuse an object with personal power.

Charm Bag (Conjure Bag/Mojo Bag)

A bag filled with things which represent your intention. Typically, the pouch is filled with herbs, crystals, affirmations, amulets, etc. and then (depending on its intended use) kept in the home, on the altar, or carried with you.

Circle

In some Pagan traditions, a “circle” refers to the people who gather for a ritual. When standing in a circle, all the participants are able to see each other, with no one member elevated over any other. This practice is often felt to encourage egalitarianism and community. At a ritual, a circle will be “cast” to provide a container for the energy to be raised and to denote a differentiation between the ritual space and everyday reality

Circle-casting

Casting a circle is done to banish negative energy and create a sacred space in preparation for a spell or ritual, though it can also be cast unceremoniously to create a calm space for meditation or work

Cleansing

Cleansing an item or person is done to remove any excess lingering energies from previous rituals or that have been picked up unintentionally from going about one’s day.

Cone of Power

Psychic energy raised and focused by an individual or group mind to perform a specific task or to achieve a purpose

Consecration

The act of consecrating is to purify and dedicate an object to a specific use. Usually witches consecrate new wands or tools to make them sacred

Correspondences

Sets of ideas, concepts, and beliefs about objects, sabbats, plants, animals, or colors.

Coven

A gathering of at least three witches who come together to practice witchcraft. Often (but not always) led by a High Priestess, a High Priest, or both. Covens will gather, usually in nature, to celebrate the sabbats, for rituals, initiations, etc..

Cowan

Non-Wicca or non-Pagan (derogatory)

Craft

An abbreviation of ‘Witchcraft’, and is how many witches refer to their practice.

Crystal Elixir

Water that is infused with the energies from whatever type of water-safe crystal you choose to soak in it. The elixir can be used for drinking or for use in rituals.

Crystals

Rocks and minerals which have different properties for uses in spells, rituals, and meditation.

Crystal Grid

A special geometric arrangement of crystals with a set intention. The grid is created to amplify the power of the crystals, and to combine the powers of multiple crystals towards one end goal.

Crystal Heading

An alternative or complementary therapy, crystal healing uses crystals to bring harmony and healing to the human body and mind. This is an energy-based therapy which draws on the unique vibration of each crystal to help us balance, and unblock, our own energy centers (chakras) in the body. Each crystal has its own unique vibration and energy; each cell in the human body also has its own energy, and when a crystal is brought close to the body, sensitive people can feel the energies from the crystal, and this can help to bring their own energy into balance.

Crystal Magic

All crystals have their own natural properties which you can draw on, which means they are excellent additions to charm bags, spell jars, etc.

Curse

A pronouncement of ill-fortune. Spoken words with the power to inflict harm. Unlike a spell intended to cause harm, a curse requires nothing other than intent and the spoken word. A witch’s energy and harmful intent combined with words, are all it takes to cast a curse.

Daemon

A spirit or being below the Gods in power.

Dagger

Ritual knife used to sever psychic bonds, cursing, initiating, and exorcising

Damping

Lowering the power level of psychic energy fields

Dedication

A ritual in which a witch dedicates his- or herself to the craft and vows to study and learn all that is necessary to reach adeptship.

Degree

Levels of achievement in a particular tradition. Many traditions have three degrees.

Deity

A god or goddess

Demon

A personification of evil; an entity of an evil and destructive nature

Demonology

Medieval science of studying demons.

Deosil

Other accepted spellings: deasil / deiseal / deisal / deisul. This means clockwise/sunwise, and in witchcraft is used to attract, or bring things to you. For example, when stirring a love potion, you would stir it clockwise to attract love. If making an abundance charm bag, blend the contents clockwise to attract money, etc.

Dianic

Dianic Pagans, taking their name from the Greek goddess Diana, honor only goddesses or the Goddess, never any gods. Most Dianic groups are women-only and grew out of the feminist movement.

Divination

The practice of seeking knowledge of the future, or the unknown, by using your own intuition and insight in order to translate the images, visions, or messages that come through your chosen divination tool. There is an art to divination, and it is true that many people seem to have a natural gift, but this is also something that can be mastered over time as you learn to tune into your intuition.

Dowsing

A technique of using a rod or pendulum to find underground water, minerals, or anything invisible; can be used to magically find a person, place, thing of element.

Dream Journal

A book to write down all the dreams you have. It’s done so you can decipher messages from your subconscious as a form of divination, or so that you familiarize yourself with your dreams in order to lucid dream or* astral project* easily

Druidism

Before Europe was conquered by the Romans in the early centuries CE, members of the priestly elite of Ireland, Britain, and modern-day France were known as Druids. In their religious culture, groves of trees, bodies of water, and elevated landscapes were closely associated with various gods, goddesses, and spirits and became important sites for worship

Elements

Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. Everything here in our physical world is made up of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. And the fifth element, Spirit, is the binding force between all other elements, and between everything in existence. Witches work with the powers of these elements, and invoke their energy when practicing their magic.

Empath

A person with the ability to feel the mental and emotional state of another individual.

Enchantment

The state of being under a spell or another word for spell.

Equinox

The equinoxes, which happen twice a year, are days when night and day are of equal duration. For many Pagans, these holidays signify balance. Although practices vary according to region and climate, many Pagans celebrate the birth of spring on March 21 (the spring equinox), while September 21 is a fall harvest festival (the autumn equinox).

Esbat

A meeting of a coven of witches at a time other than one of the eight sabbats. Often these meetings are held once every moon cycle, often during the full moon, and incorporate healing work, psychic and magical training, moon rituals, etc. Solitary witches who take advantage of the moon phases will often refer to their moon magic or rituals as ‘esbats’.

Esoteric/Esotericism

Esoteric topics are usually, but not always, religious or spiritual in nature. If a topic is only studied or understood by a few people it is generally considered esoteric. Many occult topics are esoteric but not all and some esoteric traditions are occult in nature but certainly not all of them. “Esoteric” is generally discussed along with “mysticism”.

Evocation

To call something out from within.

Familiar

Familiars are a witch’s helpful, guardian spirit. Familiars may take the form of a pet, a spirit animal, or even an obliging non-physical entity. Not every witch has a familiar, and not all witches who have a familiar are aware of it.

Folklore

The traditional sayings, stories, faerie tales, or cures with a particular locale.

Gardnerian

A form of religious witchcraft, follows the writings and teachings of Gerald Gardner (1884–1964), which were published in England in the 1950s.

Grimoire

A book of spells, rituals, and instructions. Traditionally a Grimoire (unlike a* Book of Shadows*, which contains script about experiences, and emotions, and religious text) is a book containing only tried and trusted magical directions, spells, incantations, and invocations.

Grounding

The act of connecting spiritually and physically to the earth’s energy

Hag Stone

They are stones containing a naturally occurring hole; believed to provide protection against diseases and evil

Handfasting

Spanning many cultures and thousands of years, handfasting is an ancient ritual in which the hands of the couple wishing to pledge their union, are tied together with cords, ribbon, or lace, to symbolize the binding of two lives. A symbolic marriage ceremony which is popular among pagans and wiccans.

Hearth

A fire place and the surrounding area; symbol of one's home.

Hermeticism

Any of the beliefs, philosophies, practices, or tenets related or attributed to the fictional figure of Hermes Trismegistus. Core texts include the “Hermetic Corpus”, the “Emerald Tablet”, and “The Kybalion”. The first two are either lost, reconstructed, or fabricated and the latter was published under a pseudonym in the early 20th century.

Hex

A magic spell or charm which is intended to bring harm. To hex someone is to put them under a spell which will attract misfortune, ill health, or hardship.

High Priestess

Though this can vary depending on tradition, and coven, the leader of a coven is often referred to as the High Priestess. The High Priestess embodies intuition, creativity, and the divine feminine. Having dedicated their life to the Craft, studied, trained, and incorporated it into their everyday life, they will have earned this title and status. The High Priestess is a teacher, a leader, and a healer.

Hypnosis

An altered state of consciousness where one's bodily and sensory control, suggestibility, and the ability to concentrate are increased

Imbolc

Also known as Imbolg, or Saint Brigid’s Day. One of the eight sabbats, Imbolc is a traditional festival, held on the 1st of February each year (in the Northern Hemisphere), which is about midway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. It is celebrated on the 1st August in the Southern Hemisphere. This is a time for purification, cleansing, and planning.

Immanence

Most Pagans believe that divinity is immanent, or present, in the physical world. Some Pagans believe that a single divine force is present in all things; others believe that all living and natural things have a soul or spirit. The Pagan belief that the human body is holy is connected to their belief in immanent divinity.

Incantation

A spoken spell or charm intended to have an effect on a person or object. Incantations can be spoken words, in your own language charged with intent – or they can be a chanting of noises, or made-up words which have meaning and power known only to the witch casting the spell.

Incense

The ritual burning of herbs or oil during magical workings or rituals to better help the witch(es) attune with the goal of the working

Initiation

The process of being introduced and admitted into a coven; usually done as a ritual.

Invoke

To call in a higher power for help. This is usually calling on a spirit, deity, or the power of the elements for some kind of assistance, inspiration, or protection.

Jinx

An unlucky or malevolent thing, person, or force. If someone or something is ‘jinxed’ it attracts misfortune. Unlike a hex, a jinx is more of an unintentional curse…it is thought that you jinx someone, or something accidentally.

Karma

The notion that any positive or negative energy which is put out into the world will return to the sender. Karma is known by some witches as the ‘rule of three’ or ‘threefold law’, stating that the karma which comes back is always three times as strong as the one that is initially released.

Kindred

A kindred is a group of Heathens. This term emphasizes contemporary Heathen kinship with ancestral practitioners of Germanic and Northern European religious traditions. Although some Heathen groups believe it is important for Heathens to have Northern European ethnic heritage, many see kinship in spiritual terms and welcome practitioners of all ethnic backgrounds.

Lammas

Also known as Lughnasadh. One of the eight sabbats, on the 1st of August, midway between the Summer Solstice and the Autumn Equinox, Lammas is the celebration of the first harvest; it is a time for giving thanks for abundance.

Litha

Also known as* Summer Solstice* or Midsummer. One of the eight sabbats, Litha celebrates the longest day and the shortest night of the year. This is a time of joy and celebration, as the sun is at the height of its power.

Lucid Dreaming

The state of active and conscious dreaming where you are able to control what is going on in your dreams.

Mabon

Also known as the Autumn Equinox. Celebrated in September at the time when night and day, dark and light, are equal. Mabon celebrates the period of rest after the labor of harvest, and is a time to reap what you’ve sown and celebrate the fruits of your labor.

Magick/Magic

Magick with this spelling was first used in the 1600’s and is an early English spelling for ‘magic’ – it has more recently been adopted to differentiate stage magic and illusion, with the very real magic associated with witchcraft.

Magic Circle

An energy field that you surround yourself with before your magical workings begin. Some people also like to cast a magic circle before meditating. The circle provides protection since you cast it with the intent of positive energies only being allowed to enter. This means that when you open yourself up to energies, you are protected from negative ones. Not only this, but it contains and amplifies your own personal energies making your magic more powerful; the circle is almost like a cauldron for brewing up powerful energies!

Manifestation

Refers to the act of materializing your wants and goals by truly believing in their possibility.

Mantra

The sounds used for as an associational device or to induce trance

Meditation

The act of concentrated mindfulness, where you can still the mind and empty it of thought while doing nothing. It is done to relax and reach an altered state of consciousness.

Mindfulness

The practice of being invested fully in whatever activity you are doing and not distracted by irrelevant thoughts.

Moon Magic

Magic associated with the moon. Working with the different moon phases is an important part of many witches’ practice.

Moon Water

Water which has been charged with the moon’s lunar energy.

Mysticism

A religious practice where the goal is a direct experience with God, a god, or gods.

Necromancy

The practice of working with the dead. Witches who practise necromancy magic do a lot of ancestral and spirit work and use divination tools like ouija boards. The practice is surrounded with the fascination of death. It is not considered black magic as it is not necessary to kill or inflict pain on living things to practise necromancy.

Occultism

The study of the ‘hidden secrets’ of the universe. Typically refers to the paranormal, however, it also can be used as an umbrella term similar to ‘paganism’ for witchcraft, astrology, shamanism, divination and botany, to name a few.

Omen

An event or sign that is believed to foretell or foreshadow a good or bad future circumstance.

Ostara

Also known as Eostre *or the Spring Equinox*. One of the eight sabbats, Ostara is a March celebration (typically celebrated on the Equinox, or the full moon thereafter) which celebrates balance, rebirth, and new beginnings. Ostara is a great time for purification spells, and spells for fresh starts, or new projects etc.

Pagan

A person who holds religious beliefs outside of the mainstream religions. Pagans believe that nature is sacred; and they connect spiritually with the earth, observing the changing of the seasons and the natural cycles of birth, growth, and death. Many Pagans worship multiple Gods and Goddesses, and some worship only Mother Earth. Pagans do not necessarily all share the same beliefs and values as each other; they follow their own spiritual path, without feeling the need to conform.

Pendulum

A weight of some kind attached to a chain or string which swings to give answers to questions. Using a pendulum is a form of dowsing, meaning you use your intuition and subconscious thoughts to understand what is happening in your life

Pentacle

The pentacle has long been used by witches as a symbol of protection; the points of the pentacle represent the five elements of earth, air, fire, water, and spirit…the five things essential to sustain life. The circle surrounding them contains and protects, and also connects the five points indicating that earth, air, fire, and spirit, are all connected.

Pentagram

A five-pointed star without the circle, a symbol of the elements.

Poppet

A doll made to represent someone in order that you can cast spells on them, or aid them, through magic. Traditionally, these were often carved from natural materials such as roots, or branches, but in modern witchcraft they are more likely to be mindfully sewn from cloth and stuffed with herbs that relate to the intention of the witch creating them.

Quarters

The four corners and/or watchtowers in a magical circle.

Querent

In divination, the person who ask questions of the reader

Rising Sign

Also known as the ascendant, refers to the zodiac sign that was ascending over the eastern horizon at the time and place you were born. It is described as the ‘mask’ of how we first come across when meeting new people or being in new situations

Ritual

While a *spell *is a set of actions to bring about a desired result, a ritual, similarly, is a set of actions to bring about a desired result, but is more involved and tends to bring religious or spiritual beliefs into the magic; this can be done in many ways, such as calling on deities, chanting, dancing, etc.

Any spell can become a ritual, by incorporating your own personal spiritual practices.

Runes

Runes originated in 4th century Scandinavia as a divinatory alphabet. In Paganism, small stones printed with runes are employed for both divination and magic. Each character is said to have a special spiritual significance, particularly when drawn in response to a question or issue

Sabbat

A sabbat is one of the eight celebrations/festivals recognised and celebrated by wiccans and many (but not all) pagans and witches. Beliefs can vary regarding the precise timing of each celebration, depending on their own religious or spiritual beliefs, and based on distinctions such as lunar phase and geographic hemisphere.

Samhain

Also known as* Hallowe’en*. One of the eight sabbats, Samhain (celebrated on the 31st of October) celebrates the thinning of the veil between our world and the spirit world. This is a time to celebrate and honor our ancestors and passed loved ones, and to communicate with them, leave offerings for them, and remember them.

Scrying

An ancient form of divination, which involves gazing into a surface such as a crystal ball, a mirror, water, or flickering flames. There are no limits to how and where and with what tools, a person may scry; perhaps they stare into the darkness, or up at the clouds, for it to form any signs and symbols they can translate…The images seen by the diviner can be fleeting, hazy, or vague, but the intuition of the diviner helps them to discern and understand the scattered, fragmented images, and translate them into something tangible.

Shadow Work

The ‘shadow’ refers to the dark side of our personalities which we repress and overlook. It is the side of us that is wounded with past traumas and impulsive emotions such as envy, greed, rage and desire. Shadow work is the practice of facing those emotions and traumas head on to be able to heal properly and balance your life.

Shaman

A person who has access to and influence over all kinds of spirits and they typically can enter into a state of trance during rituals, divination and healing so that they can interact with the spiritual realms. Shamanism originates from tribes and indigenous traditions.

Sigil

A symbol used to represent a desired outcome. Commonly created by using lettering, and condensing the lettering down to a single symbol. Sigils are charged, during their creation, with the intent of the practitioner, or witch. This can then be used in magic; etched into candles, written in salt, or herbs, sewn into poppets or charm bags, the uses of sigils are only limited by our imagination.

Skyclad

To be naked, particularly during ritual magic. Some believe that clothing interferes with our ability to connect with nature, and therefore, magic is more powerful when performed naked, and fully able to connect with the elements.

Smoke Cleansing

Smoke cleansing involves burning, herbs, woods, incense, or resins in order to rid your space of negative or stagnant energies. There are several incenses, herbs, or resins you can use depending on your desired results

Smudging

The use of incense or dried herb smoke to cleanse items or an area.

Solstice

A solstice is the point in Earth's orbit when the sun is farthest from the equator, the opposite of equinox which is when the sun is the closest to the equator. The days are longer in summer solstice and shorter during the winter solstice and both take place on a different day for the southern and northern hemispheres

So mote it be

A common way of ending a spell or ritual. Meaning ‘so must it be’, or ‘so shall it be’. Often used at the end of a spell or ritual, for example, in candle magic, as the candle burns out; while making a charm bag, as the bag is tied shut; as the final words in a spoken spell, etc.

Sour Jar

Often used as a form of revenge or retribution, a sour jar is a jar created to literally sour someone’s life. It is a jar in which you place something to represent your target, a base of vinegar, and to this you can add other items to annoy and irritate such as chilli, thorns, etc.

Spiral Dance

A Pagan ritual dance that follows a snake-like coiling pattern. A line of dancers spirals into the center, back out, and back in again. Each dancer passes face to face with all the other participants; each member of the community is seen by all. The spiral dance is often danced as the culmination of the energy-raising part of a ritual.

Talisman

A talisman is an object that brings luck or protection from harm and negative energies to the person who owns it.

Tarot

Tarot cards are used for meditation and divination by some Pagans. Tarot cards are usually elaborately illustrated using symbols and images from Western mysticism. There are many possible ways to use Tarot decks, but Pagans often lay out elaborate spreads of cards to intuitively explore personal or spiritual questions, or they may draw a single card in the morning to gain insight about the day ahead.

Theban Alphabet

Or The Witches’ Alphabet, is a writing system which has been utilized by some to disguise their words so they cannot be read and understood by anyone unfamiliar with the script. The script can be used in the same way sigils would be used, or it can be used to write an entire* Book of Shadows*; though this would only be recommended if fluent in the script, or reading your own text could become problematic.

Theology

The philosophical study of religion, typically by believers.

Theurgy

Working with spirits and/or gods in a ritual fashion to elicit spiritual or material effects.

Triple Moon

Also known as the Triple Goddess. Representing the Maiden, Mother, and Crone, and honoring each stage of the female life cycle, the triple moon symbolizes the three, united.

Voodoo

A religion deriving from African polytheism. The word can also be used for dolls or puppets that are implied by popular media as used for harm or ill intent, however, that isn’t always the case.

Wand

Traditionally made of wood (but can also be made of metal, or rock, and is often set with gemstones and crystals), a wand is a rod used to channel and direct energy, and cast protective circles. Unlike an athame, a wand has a gentler energy, which is used to invite and encourage rather than to command.

Wicca

Wicca is a religion which stems from pagan witchcraft. Not all witches are Wiccans and not all Wiccans practise witchcraft.

Wiccan Rede

The Wiccan Rede refers to the basic ethical code ‘an it harm none, do what ye will’. There are several interpretations of it which are followed by many practitioners, not just Wiccans. It is considered advice rather than a rule or commandment

Widdershins

Anti-clockwise / counter-clockwise. Used in magic to banish. For example, if making a healing broth, you would stir it counter-clockwise to banish illness. If you were making a charm bag for ‘letting go’, you would blend the herbs counter-clockwise, etc.

Witches’ Bells

The ringing of bells has long been used to clear away stagnant and unwanted energy from the home. Witches bells are a cluster of bells, designed to hang on your door as a protective charm, and ring whenever anyone enters, ensuring whoever is paying you a visit doesn’t bring negative energy with them.

Witching Hour

A time of night when witches are at their most powerful and spirits are most active. This is considered to be the time when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. There are different beliefs as to when exactly the witching hour is; some say midnight, and others believe it is around 3am.

Yin-Yang

A Chinese philosophical symbol representing the duality of life, and how seemingly opposite or juxtaposing forces are interconnected and can complement and balance each other out.

Yule

Also known as the* Winter Solstice*. One of the eight sabbats, celebrated in December. A time when the darkness gives way to the sun, and days start to get progressively longer, Yule is a celebration of rebirth, renewal, and the continuation of life. A perfect time for candle magic, rest, and self-care.

Zodiac

The Zodiac refers to the 12-star constellations that can be found along the paths of the sun, moon and planets. You have a zodiac sign for each planet which is determined by the position of the planet in accordance with the 12 constellations

[thedruidcraftindex]

Welcome!

It's been a couple decades since I've last been on tumblr. Have a cup of coffee, make yourself at home while this millennial tidies up her space.

I've been trying to find the perfect website for symbolism for the Druidcraft Tarot deck - unfortunately, I haven't yet found one. Hopefully if I am diligent enough, I can make my own for my fellow tarot readers to use as reference.

Please follow if you're interested on this ride with me! Company is always welcome.

[kotlcfairytale]

KotLC Fairy Tale AU Exchange

Schedule (in CDT)

May 29: Discord server opens. Tag nominations open.

June 12: Tag nominations close. Sign-ups open.

June 26: Sign-ups close.

June 29: Assignments are out.

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August 3: Works are revealed, with all creators anonymous.

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Glossary

Assignment: The person you are assigned to make a gift for. You will receive a list of their requests and pick one to make.

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DNW: "Do Not Want," a list of things you do not want included in a gift for you. Everyone is encouraged to have one of these, and it must be followed by your gifter. DNWs must be reasonable, clear, and polite, but they can be petty ("none of this popular ship").

Exchange: A "gift exchange," where everyone receives a gift of a fan creation, and everyone makes a gift of a fan creation.

Match: When you offer something someone else requests, or you request something someone else offers, you "match" with them! You will need to at least have one offer that matches someone else's request in order to participate.

Offer: When you sign up, you will make a list of things you "offer" to create.

Pinch hitter: Someone who makes an emergency gift for someone whose gifter dropped out. You are welcome to participate only as a pinch hitter.

Request: When you sign up, you will make a list of things you "request" other people create.

Tag nominations: A period of time where people can nominate the relationships and AUs they want involved in the exchange. These will be the ONLY relationships and AUs permitted, so you want to nominate tags!

Treat: An extra gift you make with no expectation of a gift in return! You can make them for anyone in the exchange, whether or not you're assigned to them. It's just a fun and nice thing to do!

Gift Minimums:

Fic: 1000 words, with an ending

Art: A drawing completed to a level you would normally post as "finished"

Rules for Participating: 

You must join the Discord server and follow all rules listed there.

You must be 13 or older.

You must have an AO3 account, sign up through AO3, and post your gift on AO3. AO3 accepts fan creations of all types.

You must do your best to make a gift that meets the minimum requirements, and that you think your recipient will like, within the time of the event.

You must contact a moderator as soon as possible if you think you will not finish your gift in time.

You must keep your gift and recipient anonymous until creator reveals.

More information to come! I hope to see you all soon!

FAQ

What counts as a fairy tale?

I am using a broad definition! Any story that contains fairy tale elements: enchantments, curses, witches, wizards, warlocks, magic, talking animals, fairies, fae, trickery, etc... is allowed in the exchange! This could include a classic fairy tale, like Hansel and Gretel; an adaptation like Tangled, Ella Enchanted, or Land of Stories; or even an original fairy tale!

During tag nominations, people will "nominate" the specific AUs (fairy tales) they want included. These will be the only ones eligible for the exchange, so get an AO3 account and participate in tag nominations if you want to make sure something is included!

What if I don't match with anyone?

If no one wants to receive what you offer to make: We will give you an opportunity to offer more things. If you do not want to, unfortunately, you will not be able to participate in the exchange.

If no one offers to make what you want to receive: You can still participate. We will put you up as a pinch hit, meaning people can offer to make a gift for you without being assigned to.

What if I don't get a gift?

We will not reveal the works until everyone has a gift. If no one picks up a pinch hit, the exchange will remain closed until someone does. Everyone who participates will receive a gift.

What isn't allowed in the exchange?

For the comfort of the most number of participants: noncon, incest, bestiality, romantic relationships between characters who are canonically adults (over 18) and characters who are canonically minors (under 18), and NSFW are not permitted.

Considering the series, graphic violence and major character death are allowed, but only if the recipient says they're okay with receiving them.

My recipient requested ten things! How many do I have to make?

Only one! You can choose any of your recipient's requests to make, even ones you didn't originally offer.

Can I make more than one gift?

If you have more than one AO3 account, you may sign up multiple times. But please only do this if you're sure you can finish both gifts in time!

You can also be a pinch hitter, filling in for people who drop out, or make "treats"--extra gifts just for fun. But you won't receive extra gifts for either of these things.

[utapri-translations-uuuu]

Faust Last Cantata - Synopsis, Characters & Glossary

Do not retranslate/repost without permission.

Raws: @RoboB1sh (twitter) 💜

A stage of desire and despair unfolds as the curtain rises.

Synopsis of the story

An aging Faust is in utter despair over his life. He can't discover the truth and no one loves him.

Just as he reaches for poison to end his life, the devil Mephistopheles appears...

In exchange for Faust's soul, the devil promises to give him a second chance at life.

A tragic drama unfolds, pulling Wagner and Markus into the fray. What will become of this precarious deal between human and devil?

Characters

Ranmaru Kurosaki as Faust

Despairing of his life as a scholar, he makes a pact with the devil to seek the truths and joys of the world.

Reiji Kotobuki as Mephistopheles

A cunning devil who entices and manipulates humans. He makes a contract with Faust, granting him wishes in exchange for his soul.

Camus as Wagner

Faust’s disciple, good-hearted and humble. Although he is a mediocre scholar, he is full of hopes and dreams.

Ai Mikaze as Markus

A young prodigy scholar, often compared to Faust. He is Wagner’s close friend and conducts research related to life.

Glossary

Eternal life

Faust laments that life is too short and seeks "eternal life". It is a forbidden thought that ventures into the realm of the divine.

Poison

Unable to reach the truth of the world, Faust, in despair, chooses to commit suicide by poison. He mixed the chemicals and made the poison himself.

Faust's study

The place where Faust first met Mephistopheles. He owns many books on philosophy, jurisprudence, medicine, theology, and magic.

Rejuvenating medicine / Elixir of youth

A blood-red medicine containing ingredients such as the rotten roots of a 1000-year-old tree, the blood of a venomous snake, powder made from a ground-up giant spider, and mermaid flesh.

Night festival

"Walpurgis Night" is a yearly festival in which witches gather at night. The townspeople attend the festival dressed up in costumes.

Daisy flower

Also known as "unaffected by time" due to its long flowering period. It is a symbol of hope, purity, and innocence because of its tendency to bloom when exposed to light.

Wagner's laboratory

Wagner's laboratory is located near a sea cliff on the outskirts of the city. Various experiments are conducted here, and there are cages in a separate room to keep animals.

[house-strong]

— DRAGONS BANE, chapter four ʾ ⋆

CHAPTER FOUR — the pawn and the queen

glossary ; chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six.

summary ; while aemond is continually struggling to understand what these feelings that he’s experiencing are, he can’t help but continue to be vexed at his mothers newfound fondness for you. you, on the other hand, are trying to navigate court in the way your father had taught you.

notes ; lots of dialogue and character building,, includes aemond's pov and his thoughts,, whose ready for when i destroy this,, also this gif? shiyittt,,

taglist ; @cypherpt5fttaehyung @tachibubu @underatreedrinkingtea @anita-alice @shnadaidas @kitkat-writes-stuff @itisjustwhatitis @rosedovve @mistalli @thesnugglingduck @miaowchan17 @fancylisoo @merakiaes @sanguinalia @ephemeralninon @averageperhaps @sana-within-you @thegreat-annamaria @tina-theslytherin @signyvenetia @vikingsisthenewsexy @mitsuyaws @andysnewgroove @gloryekaterina @fandoms8 @aemond-apologist @lizajane2 @witchymermaid12 @sunscreenfeverdream @marytvirgin @s0ph-3 @starddustt @redridingpants @aaleksmorozova @riddlerloveb0t @bcon24 @sonyascreams @queenofshinigamis @myspy @woodandwaxwings @camilbarnesss @muddleofnervouswords @dudfahsn @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @kpoppunk18-blog @aphroditeisamilf @dottie-witch

want to join? click me.

a sudden spout of soft giggles compels you to return to the real world.

thoughts that once contained the night festivities from days before had continued to plague your mind. there was a certain uncertainty about that night; was aemond showing his true colors or was there something more deceptive at play? you’ve tried to recall the techniques that your father had taught you beforehand; what was aemond’s reasoning for wanting to get on your good side?

“sweet girl, has anyone ever told you how adorably witty you are?”

your gaze raises from the cup of wine in your hand, a small smile forming on your lips at the compliment the queen mother had given you.

“once or twice from my lord father, though i must admit, it is very nice to hear that from you, your grace.”

your reply seems to soften her resolve, for she sighs in content and fans her slightly flushed face. you assumed it was both the alcohol and her laughter than caused the rosiness of her face. she clears her throat, tucking a strand of dark curly hair behind her ear.

she takes another sip from her cup, “how have you been faring here, my dear? i hope my daughter isn’t giving you too much trouble?”

now, you’re faced with a choice. you can either tell the truth and explain to her of her youngest sons inability to stay on your good or bad side, explain how he causes aggravation and irritation in his wake, and how helaena has been nothing less than a sister. or, you could lie; tell her that everything is peachy and fine, no disturbance whatsoever in your time being here.

you assume it’s appropriate to tell her a half-truth. it wasn’t necessarily lying.. was it?

“just as i’d hoped,” you start, fingers lightly tapping against the gold goblet, “helaena is good and kind, she treats me as if i were of her own.” you lick your lips as you weigh the next words in your mind before on your tongue, “but i must confess, i have a strange longing for home.”

queen alicent has gotten up from her cushion on the other side of the room and has crossed the median, sitting beside you and setting her cup down on the table. she coos gently before taking one of your hands into hers. her hands are tender and warm, almost motherly.

her smile only seems to become more genuine and happy, if that was possible, “i’m very glad to hear that.”

“i know it must’ve been strange to see brother wed sister, but i am glad that you are supportive of helaena.” supportive. that was one word for it. alicent looks away, smacking her lips once she finds the words, “sometimes duty is what we must sacrifice love for.”

unsure if the queen was alluding to herself or helaena, you simply nod in understanding as if the piece of advice had given you some clarity. you slowly raise the cup of wine, taking a sip.

“how about aemond?” the question causes you to sit up a little straighter.

“forgive me, your grace, but what exactly about aemond?”

“has he been kind?” she asks, one of her hands leaving yours and finding the stem of her cup. her fingers curl around it before raising it to her lips so she can take a drink. was this a trick question?

another truth or lie situation. aemond was.. an enigma, that was sure. he was hot and cold; one minute he could be giving you a genuine smile after he had chuckled (him chuckling was something very special to you), then the next he could be emotionless and devoid of any sign of human life. he could be kind, but then he could turn into a force you wouldn’t want to reckon with.

you could compare him to storms and lemons, two drastically different things but served the same purpose when dealt in the same sentence as aemond. storms come and go, pretty in the distance with the smell of petrichor, then an unrelenting force when the clouds break lightning and thunder over your castle. each strike rattling the foundation and making you wonder if your home would survive the typhoon.

lemons, well, lemons were a beautiful yellow, bright and promising. but when you take a bite, instant sourness attacks your tongue and leaves you bitter.

you swallow the sudden thickness in your throat, “he has kept me company.”

it wasn’t exactly a lie. aemond has been someone who was very constant in your life since living here in grandeur of the red keep. he’s like a plague on your freedom, invading anything and everything he can; the godswood, the library, insulting your family memory, or even ridiculing your occupation.

queen alicent seems content by this answer, but before she can reply, a kingsguard opens the door. he has warm, sun-kissed skin and unruly black hair. you were sure this was criston cole, aemond’s master-of-arms and ultimately, queen alicent’s personal shield.

“prince aemond, my queen.”

aemond struts in after the kingsguard, his expression placid. he stops in the middle of the room, one hand enclosed around his wrist that’s settled at the front of him. he’s looking between the two of you, eye shooting back and forth. that’s only when he notices that his mothers hand is still enclosed around yours and how close you two were.

this only seems to anger him as his jaw becomes set, adding to the sculpture of his face. the hold on his wrist tightens to show the bone underneath the skin.

“i fear our time together has been cut short, my lady.” the queen says as she refocuses on you. she gets up and you follow, one of her hands finding your shoulder, which she rubs. she stays like that for a moment, eyes observing your features before she pulls you in to give you two chaste kisses on your cheeks. “off you go, my dear.”

you curtsy at the queens leave and set your cup on the table. you turn and make way towards the door, offering aemond a smile that he doesn’t return. safe to say, he doesn’t even look at you. some newfound feeling starts to pluck at the strings of your heart as you exit the room.

once you’re surely out of earshot and the wooden door closes behind you, aemond blinks at his mother, “do you plan to treat all wards of the crown with such familiarity?” his voice borders the bitterness of ice.

queen alicent, already sensing where this conversation was going, simply sits back down and rubs at her temples, “aemond, don’t start.” her hands join together in a fold where she places her head on top of. “you’ve been sweet on her too.”

aemond wants to tut and roll his eye at the comment. it’s as if his actions were enough to excuse hers. he chooses to hum with irritation instead, moving to sit on a chair nearby. silence drapes over them and they stare challengingly at one another, as if the other was pleading to give them an excuse to start an argument. aemond gladly takes the bait.

“she’s been here for little over a month and yet you’ve treated her with more kindness than aegon or i combined have ever seen.”

alicent, unsure as to what to say, stays silent–this only furthers aemonds growing resentment.

“you can’t even be bothered to deny it.” aemond’s voice was borderline hurt and his furrowed expression only backs that. he starts playing with his hand, cracking the knuckles where he can as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

“i don’t blame you,” he says, his stare unwavering on alicent, “she’s everything you could have possibly want. hair like yours, a certain wittiness, a fondness for duty–she’s not like aegon, helaena, or i.”

after a moment of silence and despite his best wishes, he swallows the lump that’s grown in his throat, “do you despise us?”

alicent weighs aemond’s words in her mind before deciding to respond. perhaps she should’ve stayed silent. maybe he would have found more comfort in no response than the one she comes up with.

“if you truly think that, then you are not as clever as i thought you to be.” the statement doesn’t do much to quench the fury he felt bubbling in his stomach or warm his aching heart. he, however, has decidedly given up and clears his throat. the answer he wanted wasn’t one he was going to get. disappointment is obvious as he stares down at the floor.

the only sound within the room is the fire that cackles loudly and the clang of a flagon against the table in the middle of the chairs. alicent has reached for it and poured herself a fresh cup. she leans back in her chair, sipping on the contents slowly while she’s deep in thought.

despite being unable to voice her affection for her children properly, alicent was sure that aemond was the child she favored over helaena and aegon. his brother was an incompetent drunk who often whored his way down the street of silk, scurrying away in the shadows like a rat to enjoy his nightly activities. what they were, alicent couldn’t find out, but she was sure she didn’t want to know, or even, she didn’t care to know.

helaena, ever the dear, was a force that alicent simply couldn’t understand. what alicent couldn’t understand, she was often irritable towards. helaena was quite cryptic and involved in her own hobbies; little creatures of bugs and insects stored comfortably in her room, stitching these same bugs as blankets for the child she was currently carrying. it’s possible that alicent couldn’t care to involve herself in her daughters odd passions.

what ever disconnection alicent had, perhaps there was some truth to aemonds words about you. you reminded alicent of herself when she was younger: bound by duty.

“aemond,” his name almost feels foreign and distasteful on her tongue after his outburst, “i fear i must ask something of you.”

aemond, despite the annoyance and discouragement he felt welling within him, turns his head to face his mother, “name it and it shall be done.”

his compelling need to win his mothers love and affection through devotion and loyalty was something that never went unnoticed, especially by her. he couldn’t help but sometimes feel like a dog being whistled up to do as its masters bidding.

alicent takes another sip of her wine before rising from her seat. she begins to toy with the rings that adorned her fingers while she’s in thought.

“the tyrells are the seatholders of highgarden and therefore, wardens of the west. your grandsire often talked about how their endless fields produce bountiful crop–enough so that it makes up most of the realms food.” she begins to pace back and forth. aemond watches her carefully, “the tyrells have always been sympathetic towards matriarchy–his family was the first to bend the knee to princess rhaenyra, i have no doubt he wants to pass highgarden to his daughter.”

aemond crinkles his nose at the mention of his half-sister. he was so sure he hasn’t been summoned to his mothers quarters on the pure need to share a lesson in history, what was her point?

“do you recall me explaining to you that our spies were sighting rhaenyra and daemon flying to highgarden?”

aemond nods his head, “i do.”

“i believe rhaenyra was planning on joining their houses–our dear, little flower to her son, jacaerys.” alicent turns around to look at aemond. his leg is now crossed over the other and he is well in thought–obvious realization dawning on his face as he realizes what his mother is trying to tell him.

“jacaerys is barely a man with any hair on his chest,” he responds.

alicent smiles and sits on the cushion that’s closest to aemond. she settles her elbows on her lap and leans forward. one of her hand goes up to tenderly stroke his cheek and aemond almost feels the need to lean into her touch. he simply closes his eyes and enjoys the warmth of her single digit against his skin.

“you, aemond, are a man grown.” her hand drops from his face. a few moments of silence and aemond reopens his eye to meet her look, “you will woo her and convince her to marry you.”

aemond wants to laugh, but all that comes out is a half-assed chuckle that’s mixed with a breathless scoff. he looks at her as if her proposition was some kind of joke. even if she was serious, aemond couldn’t find it in his.. heart to even try to begin properly courting you.

he had so many grievances against you; your family was conspiring with princess rhaenyra (which, in his mind was already traitorous enough even if she wasn’t technically a rebellion against the throne), you had won the affections of his mother (which should’ve been his by his own birth, but that’s a subject he doesn’t want to argue about anymore), and.. what ever this feeling was that he had swallow down the night of helaena and aegon’s wedding celebration.

it felt like bile was stuck in his chest, unmoving and forever keeping him in agony.

he turns his head away, the hardness returning into his jaw, “anything but, mother.”

“aemond, please,” she softly, “if not for me, then your brother– your sister. if rhaenyra comes to power, there’s no telling what she will do to you three.”

aemond, despite everything in his self interest, knows she’s right. bound by his desperation to keep his family together and happy, aemond casts an unhappy look towards his mother.

“i’ll do what i must.”

alicent gives him a fond smile once his reply reaches her ears. despite everything that was said, alicent can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in her chest. even though he was vengeful and oftentimes full of an anger she couldn’t comprehend, she could admit that his loyalty to his family was one of his limited strengths.

“i know you will, sweet boy.” sweet boy. that was the first affectionate name his mother had given him. was it wrong to still feel resentful? was it possibly too late to start letting her affinity towards himself be known? was this merely the lemon on top of a lemon cake that will help ensure his success in wooing you? aemond couldn’t tell, but he knew that he did not like being called sweet boy.

aemond purses his lips and licks his teeth, “can i go now?”

“you may.” the affirmation of his leave is enough to make him stand, give his mother a slight bow, and saunter out of the room without a second thought.

he paces the halls of the red keep, teeth gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks about his newfound mission. what was he to do about you? how in seven hells was he supposed to muster the strength to not only gain your friendship, but your love? what did he know about love?

aemond was sure he didn’t know anything about it. his mother hated being a mother and never properly put her heart into caring for them. his father, well, his father was tiptoeing between the line of living and being dead. when he was younger, he had always watched his father favor his nephews over his actual sons. maybe that was the reason aemond was so spiteful against them and the world.

he rounds a sharp corner and nearly knocks into a body. his hands shoot out on instinct and grip the shoulders, his eye taking in the person before him. you. how convenient. the parchment you were holding drops to the ground and gets trampled over, much to your dismay which is vocalized with a groan.

“we have to stop meeting like this.” aemond is unsure whether it was a tease or if he was being mean, but it looks like you’ve receipted it as a tease.

you bend at the knee and pick up the piece of paper, “maybe you should look where you’re going.”

aemond’s brows furrow and he’s ready to make a combative comment, but the grin on your face tells him that you weren’t being an ass. maybe he needs to get out more.

“what’s that?” he motions with his chin towards the ruined paper in your hands.

deciding to make fun of the situation, “this was a letter meant for the princess explaining all your whereabouts as i am her spy.”

if aemond could physically bristle at your jest, he would now. his eye opens wide and he makes a grab for the paper. your brows furrow in confusion and you swat his arm away, pulling the paper out of his reach.

“that was a joke, aemond.” your voice is scolding and aemond doesn’t like that.

“if it was then let me read it.” maybe aemond was out of line for asking, or rather telling, but he just needed to be sure.

you scoff, “no, this is a letter for my father. it’s personal. besides, i thought we weren’t friends?”

you don’t miss the way aemond rolls his eye at your last comment. touché. he huffs in defeat, his eye narrowing pointedly at you.

“i could command you,” he suggests, his hands joining behind his back as he leans against the wall. you stare at him challengingly and he can’t help but notice the fury that brought out a certain light in your eye. maybe this wasn’t the best way to woo you, but he was never one to accept defeat.

“then you’d be losing the closest thing to a friend that you have,” you retort back. was he incapable of being decent? incapable of returning to the man that you’ve laughed with those days ago? “if you want friends, my prince, then i suggest you don’t use your power over them.”

with that and an angry exhale through your nose, you turn sharply on your heel and leave him alone in the courtyard.

aemond can’t help but feel discomforted at your use of ‘my prince.’ he was doing well, he reckoned, as you called him by his name earlier in your conversation. maybe he egged you on a little too much.

maybe.

[fictional-library-tournament]

Prelims round 1, poll 19

Propaganda

Scarlet Devil Mansion Library, Touhou:

It's said to have books of all kind, in thousands of different languages, and about countless different things. Some of the books were written by the librarian herself, Patchouli Knowledge. The was also probably one of the first recognizable set pieces in the windows touhou games, being the fourth stage in it's introductory game.

The Lines Between, Dimension 20: Neverafter:

Contains all versions of every story ever written, told, or imagined - free existential horror with every checkout!

"You're nothing more than scratches of ink on someone else's piece of paper."

The Lines Between is a massive place between stories, and staffed by diverse and deific librarians who are just doing their best, such as Glossary, Key, Legend and Index. The library is physically made of books, scrolls, and parchment. Its areas include the Hall of Stories, the Canonade, the Tower of Tales, and perhaps most remarkably: a brilliant view of the Auroratory. It is a beautiful aurora borealis of voices, preserving auratory stories that aren't necessarily written down. It is possible to swim up and into the Auroratory.

Fort Maria Library, Star Sable Online:

(All images come from ssoblr users)

So this is not necessarily a public library and it was abandoned for a long time (as far as we know) but the druids have it up again recently in game. It was built as part of Fort Maria centuries ago by the time of the game, and holds books from all those eras.

It is a gorgeous and expansive place with secret passageways, rare tomes, fluffy seats, old abandoned research, a lot of study areas, old relics, a moving bookcase to a portal cavern and even its very own library ghost!

It is, in my opinion, one of the most atmospheric places in the game. Even without sound on it is gorgeous and bring across its intention incredibly well, and with the sound on it is incredibly eerie. The music here is very limited and quiet, and the player’s footsteps echo through the library.

I feel like whatever you’re researching, you will find something on it in here. It feels like a place you could spend your whole life reading in, and still only have read a tiny fraction of the books there.

the citizens of jorvik (fictional star stable online island) keep all the witchcraft books in there and all their super secret and cool magic books, it was closed for years and it's very mysterious. one of the coolest characters (mrs. holdsworth) in the whole game hangs out there a lot, and it's home to a cute little capran named beatrix and she took her name from her favorite book. the only way you get in the library is by feeding her snacks and reading her books and she's also one of the coolest characters in the game (imo). also beatrix is friends with one of the horses in the game and she often is seen playing with the horse so :) OH and also there's a full heckin portal room in the lower floor!!! with a little pond and a portal that at some point the main characters (the "soul riders") get kicked in by the evil guys (the "dark riders") into this place called devil's gap (despite the name there's just one witch basically vibing in the gap potentially helping out the evil guys but we haven't figured that out yet). and it's gorgeous, if you're worrying about looks. the inside is all wooden and home-y and the portal room is also very pretty eye candy, it's very glow-y.

Bookholm, The City of Dreaming Books by Walter Moers

None

[theteasetwrites]

Merciless Beauty

Chapter 3: The Wound Is Quick and Keen

❧ Pairing: Knight Daryl Dixon x Princess Reader ❧ Era: Medieval fantasy AU ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing, scary situation, violence and gore, references to death and traumatic situations (including child abuse) ❧ Word Count: 6.6k

❧ Before You Read...

❧ Glossary

❧ In This Chapter: Sir Daryl escorts you outside the walls of Alexandria for the first time, and though the excursion is mostly pleasant, it is rife with danger. A close call leads the two of you to a secluded cottage that only Daryl knows of, where a bond begins to grow.

❧ A/N: The princess is free! Well, kind of. She is so cute I love her. And Daryl... UGH. Literally the best. I don't have much to say about this part, but I wanna give a quick shoutout to all my friends who have been beta-reading this series! @weretheones @finalgirlrick @darylspissslit @devnmon @purple-witch-23 @littlelovingideas @spncupcake thanks so much friends!! I appreciate you<3 Also pls check out their work because they also write TWD stuff and it's amazing

The long, dark, sepulchral tunnel seemed at once cavernous and claustrophobic, with the light of the knight’s torch only illuminating a few feet ahead, but the feeling of a much wider expanse of darkness, in which shadows that may or may not have really been there lurked within the blackest corners. It was no small wonder they had been not-so-lovingly dubbed The Tombs. 

Though you were sure nothing was behind you, it felt as though an unseen entity stalked you, stepping on your heels despite no real physical weight overcoming you. There were always rumors around court about these tunnels, how they were haunted by the souls of those who perished in the first struggle against the Dead, but you tried not to pay mind to those rumors. After all, that would mean your own mother haunted these dank, miserable passages, and that was a fate worse than death, you thought.

But Daryl knew this tunnel now, having made sure the path was clear and snuck his horse out to meet you at the end of the underpass just an hour before. Still, you found yourself not straying more than a foot from him, his broad, cloaked back becoming a strange source of comfort to you in this abyss of darkness. 

“You’re sure there are no dead ones in here?” you whispered. “It smells of… death.”

“I went through here twice… No walkers.”

“Walkers?”

“Dead ones.”

Oh. A colloquial term. 

Silence settled in again, with only the echoes of globs of water dripping onto the rough cobbled stone to fill the eerie space where words had provided some relief. In that silence, your anxiousness caught up with you―what if Elizabeth’s lie fell through? She’d informed the guards not to disturb you in your chambers, that you had fallen ill and needed rest. She left strict instructions not to check on you, for fear of contagion. And with your father out of town, there shouldn’t have been any chance for disturbances. Even so, the only thing more terrifying than this tunnel was the idea of having less freedom than you already did. Being confined to your bedchamber for the rest of your life, surely, would’ve been the punishment if the king discovered your escape. He wasn’t a cruel man, but his overbearing nature could inadvertently lead to such a cruel decision. 

When a horse’s neigh startled you from your thoughts, you stumbled forward to cling to the knight’s upper arm, which flexed and stiffened in response to your sudden movement. Your chest pressed firmly against his back, he felt you briefly shiver in fear, though as your senses came back to you, you chided yourself for your jumpiness. 

“S-sorry, Sir Daryl.”

If he wasn’t caught in a rather serious situation, he might’ve let his internal amusement at your persistent formality manifest itself in the form of a chuckle, but he only huffed instead. “Just Daryl.”

Blinking hard, you loosened your grip on his arm, reluctantly pulling yourself away. He seemed to radiate warmth, and this tunnel was so cold and frightening. “Sorry. Daryl.”

He peered over his shoulder to speak again. “Stop sayin’ sorry.”

With a sniffle, you nodded your head. “Sor―” You stopped yourself. “All right.”

The further you traveled, the louder the sounds of Daryl’s horse, which provided some comfort now. It meant you were getting closer to getting out of here, and closer to fresh air.

At the end of the tunnel, Daryl placed his torch in the iron sconce hanging on the wall of a modest wooden door, with a thick bar placed across to prevent the Dead (or alive) from getting in. There stood the knight’s horse, too, hardly visible in the blackness that matched his sleek, shiny coat. From what you could see, though, the horse was beautiful, with a long crimped mane of ebony and a long forelock draping messily, yet gracefully, over his eyes. Upon each leg was a slight feathering, just above his hooves, nearly cloaking them. 

“What a beautiful horse.” As he lifted the bar with a huff, he looked your way to see your hands caressing the animal’s neck, and his black nose buried in the loose tendrils of your hair. “Oh!” you laughed. “Friendly, too. What’s his name?”

Daryl wiped the sweat from his brow as he spoke bluntly. “Phantom.”

“Oh.” You sounded a little disappointed. “Well, that’s not a very friendly name for such a friendly horse.”

The knight scoffed as he took the horse’s reigns. “He ain’t friendly. He’s a warhorse.”

He didn’t expect such a look of excited curiosity to form upon your face. “Oh, a destrier? How grand.”

With one hand guiding the horse towards the door, the other unlatching the final lock, Daryl looked back at you. You could see a sliver of bright light pouring in through the thin line where the door was beginning to open. Of course, you’d seen light before, but not like this, not from this direction. Somehow, it was different. 

“You wanna stand around talkin’ about horses all day or you wanna go outside?”

The last thing you wanted to do was spend more time inside this rotten intestine of a tunnel. “Lead the way, Sir―I mean, Daryl.”

Trying to avoid the inevitable smirk that formed on his face, he pushed the door open further, slowly guiding Phantom into the light of day, which allowed the horse’s coat to shine an almost reddish chestnut tone. 

But the horse’s beauty was momentarily eclipsed by the magnificent glade of silver birch trees before you, a simple dirt path diverging through the forest. You’d seen these trees from high above, and from a great distance, outside your window, but never had you seen them so close, so almost within reach. Many times you’d reached your hand out, imagining you could touch the trees, but now, there was nothing standing between you and that forest. 

As you stepped forward, you relished in the feeling of dirt and leaves underfoot. You’d felt the ground before, in the garden and the courtyard, but this was something different, something new. In fact, you wanted to feel it on your bare skin, the closeness of the earth. 

While Daryl busied himself with readying the horse’s saddle, you were stripping yourself of your brown leather shoes, letting one bare foot take your first step as you worked on removing the other shoe. 

The knight looked wide-eyed at you, your feet now sinking into the dirt beneath you. “What the hell are you doin’?”

To his surprise, you let out a sing-song laugh as you took several more steps towards the forest. With your head down, your hair draping all around the sides of your face, you were focused on the movements of your feet, as if you could feel the sensation through your eyes. 

“I used to run around barefoot as a child,” you said, lifting your face to his. He was greeted by a wide, toothy grin, the likes of which he hadn’t seen upon your face. He’d seen the joyful expression upon your face when he offered to escort you outside the walls, but this was something else entirely, accompanied by bright, carefree eyes that captured the glow of the sunlight streaming down to consume the last of the early morning mist. “It’s just not the same in the courtyard at the castle.”

Your attention peeled away from the knight as you took in the trees all around you, tall and magnificent, surely hundreds of years old. The stories these trees could tell, the things they’d seen—you’d hoped that their knowledge would make up for your lack of it for the past ten years. If you couldn’t have seen such things, at least they had.

Absentmindedly, you meandered towards the trees, your arms outstretching the closer you got as you prepared to touch them. Daryl could only look on in slightly amused confusion at your wonderment for such mundane objects of nature, but he had to remember, it’d been a long time since you’d seen these things out in the wilds, outside of the manicured gardens and meticulously trimmed botanicals found within the walls of the castle to which you were confined. Still, the little laughs and sweet giggles that bubbled up from within you were undeniably delightful. 

But Daryl couldn’t let you spend all day admiring a silver birch tree. He hopped upon Phantom and instructed the beast forward, until a blackness swallowed your peripheral vision. As you blinked your attention towards the knight, his hand now outstretched to you, you noticed your shoes had been stuffed carefully inside the saddlebag near his thigh. 

“C’mon,” he said with a nod of his head. “There’s more than this.”

Your bare feet skipped delicately through waves upon waves of tall white beardtongue, the petals of which occasionally tickled your bare thighs when they got caught inside your gown. You had to admit the feeling gave you a rush so strong that you skipped faster through the meadow, careful not to trample over any of the wildflowers.

Daryl’s presence was a comfort to you, him standing at the edge of the meadow with Phantom’s reins in his hand, and your velvet teal cloak draped over the crook of his elbow as he watched dutifully. Though no walkers had come across your path yet, he worried most about the poor, soft soles of your feet being marred by the elements. These thoughts were always immediately dismissed, though, as his job wasn’t to fret over your cleanliness, but your life.

“Oh, Daryl!” you called out, alerting him a bit too well as he instinctively grasped for the hilt of the greatsword strapped to his belt. He huffed when he raised his eyes to see you entranced by the pale blue spotted butterfly resting upon your hand. “Look!”

Again, you let out a sweet laughter, the cadence of which tickled the knight’s spine like a feather being dragged languidly over each vertebra. With the tiny, delicate creature flapping its wings upon your hand, he admired your gentleness, how sweet your eyes turned when gazing upon the beautiful butterfly. It was strange—he’d been out here with you for almost two hours, and yet no walkers or bandits had crossed your path. It was almost as if your purity somehow deterred those things, those horrible things that plagued this land. Indeed, he’d never seen the world like this before, so much happier and sweeter than it had once been. Perhaps you didn’t need this world, but this world needed you. No, of course not. That was silly, he told himself, shaking his head to rid himself of his own thoughts. No one woman could change the world just by existing in it.

“Oh,” you sighed in a bittersweet tone. The butterfly flew away, your eyes following it for as long as it could before it disappeared beyond the hill. 

Don’t be sad, princess, he found himself thinking, his own heart seeming to sink a little when your eyes turned just a little soft with sorrow. Please don’t be sad. 

“Well,” you sighed again, your voice getting louder as you approached him, your hands lifting your gown just enough to allow you to step high over the tall flowers. As if by instinct, his eyes trailed to your bare ankles, then your calves, your knees, and just a sliver of your soft thighs… 

Stop looking, that rational voice in his head commanded. But the improper, unabashed voice replied, But, oh, milady… What fine legs you have.

“This meadow is beautiful, but there must be more to see.” You took your cloak from him to swing it around your shoulders and clasp it around your neck, then circled around the horse to retrieve your shoes from its saddle. “Where are we going next?”

Daryl thought for a moment, but his immediate attention was directed towards the gracefulness of your movements, the way your fingers curled through Phantom’s forelock and tickled underneath his chin, and the way you nuzzled your nose against his… How gentle the warhorse was, as if you had some soothing effect upon him. 

If Daryl was a superstitious man, he’d say you worked some kind of womanly magic upon your surroundings, wooing him and his horse and even the Dead. If he was a cruel man, he’d accuse you of being a witch, demanding to see if you bore the Devil’s mark or if you sank in water. Of course, he didn’t believe in sorcery or witches or Satan, but he did believe you had worked some kind of spell on him, one of a more corporeal nature. 

“Daryl?”

He cleared his throat as his senses came back to him. “Yes, I, um… I know of a lake nearby. Would that, um, suit you, your highness?” He tried to speak in his best chivalric tone, though he knew not why. He never cared much for that before, until right this moment, and it seemed almost against his will. Maybe witches were real, afterall. Still, he wasn’t about to rid himself of this warm, ticklish feeling in the pit of his stomach, even if it was the work of the Devil. 

A sweet, beautiful, kind agent of the Devil.

“A lake would be lovely,” you replied. 

At length, you walked alongside Daryl, who let you guide Phantom this time. You’d insisted upon walking to the lake, giving the poor horse a break from carrying the weight of the two of you. It was no disappointment to the knight, who found that he quite liked spending more time with you, prolonging his time outside the walls to hold your cloak as you frolicked or to kneel and let you hold onto his strong shoulder as you brushed the dirt off your feet. It almost sickened him how much he relished in being of service to you. 

And it was such a beautiful day, the perfect day for you to see the outside world. In your fascination, you were rendered quiet, turning in every direction to catch with your eyes every bird or deer or squirrel or insect that crossed your path. The woods were serene, too, much brighter and free of any pestilence that your father had so ominously warned you of. 

Indeed, you wondered where the Dead were. It seemed too good to be true, considering the horrible memories you had of that night your mother died, of seeing her getting pulled into a swarm of walkers as she reached her hand out to you, calling for you. You still remembered how you struggled to reach for her, your fingers just grazing her trembling hand before you were yanked away by a guard. 

Of course, you knew there was no way you could’ve saved her. Her neck and arms were already being feasted upon, spurts of blood shooting out and sprinkling in crimson globs upon your tear-stained cheeks, while her screams were increasingly drowned by the sound of her flesh tearing from her bones. When her body was taken in completely by the hoard, you heard one last scream—No, please, no!

As this memory inflicted itself upon you, the feeling akin to a knife in the chest, you stopped in your tracks, staring blankly at the vision before you that seemed to have crawled out of your head. Between the trees ahead of you, five or six of the dead lumbered clumsily over sticks and stones towards you. 

When the knight pushed you behind him, drawing his sword, you studied the appearances of the dead men with shock. They wore clothes just like any commoner, one even wearing a blacksmith’s apron, another wearing a simple white linen coif upon her head, not unlike the ones you owned, except yours weren’t caked in dried blood, but the similarity was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Dar-Daryl…” Your voice faltered as you backed away, your hands clinging tight to the reins on the horse. “What do we do?”

It hadn’t occurred to him that you didn’t know the first thing about walkers, how to kill them, how to avoid them. He should’ve told you. He planned on telling you, but he got… distracted. So distracted he’d forgotten of the Dead’s existence altogether.

“Just stay behind me,” he said. “If one comes at you, you run.”

Run? Run where? I do not know these woods… 

“All right.”

He held his sword with both hands, and you wondered how on Earth he could hold such a large thing, no doubt made of fine, heavy steel. He must’ve had a great deal of strength, not to mention the heavy armor he would carry in battle. Indeed, he was broad and seemed hearty enough to withstand almost anything. 

A sparkle of sunlight reflected off the silver blade as it sliced through a walker’s neck, severing the head in one fluid motion that caused you to gasp in horror at the sight. 

But Daryl moved so fluidly, with such ease and intensity. Every stroke was purposeful, and every kick and turn and step was made with confidence. As you watched in combined terror and amazement, you realized that he really was a great knight. His chivalry left much to be desired, but you could tell why he achieved his status as knight. Soon, the walkers were all headless, and he got to work plunging the blade of his sword directly into the creature’s severed heads, which appeared to still be alive. 

You leaned forward in awe, curious about how the heads could still be alive when severed from the body. 

But your thoughts ceased when a cold hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you with great strength down to the forest floor. You came down with a yelp, both from the startling action and the feeling of your ankle twisting in an unnatural manner, creating an awful pain that traveled all the way up to the top of your head to send you nearly passing out.

But the lone, legless walker kept you awake, yanking at your leg with its teeth gnashing horribly, creating a terrible clicking sound with each attempt to take a bite of you.

You pulled away, kicking at the thing’s forehead to get it away from you, but it was relentless, and soon set its sights on your neck as its disgusting, rotting body began to climb up your torso, its mouth dripping foul blood over your surcote as you gasped and panted and screamed in fear.

In the distance, you heard the loud whinnying of Phantom, then the sound of his hooves against the dirt, getting further and further away. 

All this happened in a matter of milliseconds, with the knight moving quickly to tear the dead man away from you, throwing its growling body several feet away from you. With a grunt, he swung his greatsword overhead, bringing it down to slice the creature’s head vertically with a horrid squelch. 

The thing fell back in its final state of death, allowing Daryl to sheath his bloodied sword and hurry over to you, his gloved hands feeling all over your arms and legs and torso. Your eyes widened at the touches, how brazenly he handled you with his strong, filthy hands. 

“You bit?” he asked.

Oh. 

He kept feeling you, lifting your dress to examine your calves with a stoicism and seriousness you wouldn’t have expected from a man with his hands all over you. But then, this was a serious situation. Get your mind out of the gutter, you chided yourself. 

“N-no, I’m fine…” Dizzied from the sudden fall, you raised your hand to your forehead, then stroked it through your now wild hair. As you became aware of your body once again, you realized the dull ache surrounding your right ankle. “Oh, my… my ankle. It hurts.”

He lifted your gown again to examine your ankle, the skin around it inflamed and swollen, and it was angled rather sharply inwards. A grimace contorted the knight’s face. “Sprained,” he said. He knew that well, having seen the very minor injury many times in battle. Of course, if the worst injury one received was a sprained ankle, that was a blessing. 

As his hands cradled you underneath the underarms to lift you, he peered behind his shoulder with a deep huff. “Damn horse,” he cursed. 

Struggling to help lift yourself with your good leg, you realized, too, that the horse had run off in the midst of the chaos. “Oh, no! How are we going to—Oh!”

You felt caught in a whirlwind as the knight somehow slung you over his shoulder, his arm wrapped around the backs of your legs to hold you in place as he began to walk, not wasting any time to catch up to the horse. 

“What are you doing?!” you cried out in confusion. Your sight was momentarily shrouded in darkness as your face was buried in the wool of his cloak, but you lifted your head to see the ground moving beneath dizzyingly as you bounced against his back. “Are you… carrying me?”

“Gotta catch up to Phantom… Ain’t gettin’ anywhere very fast with you limpin’.” He punctuated his sentence with a strained grunt, then stopped briefly to bounce you until you were more securely draped over his broad shoulder. 

“How do you know where he went?”

“There’s a cottage not far from here. He knows to go there.” That, and he could track the horse’s trail quite easily. 

You remained quiet for a while, until he hitched you up again. “You know,” you remarked, “this is not how you carry a princess. A rather large sack of potatoes, yes, but not a princess.”

He tried to hinder his laughter. It was difficult. 

“How did you find this place?” you asked, sat upon a dusty old floor pillow beside the warm, burning hearth.

The cottage was small, just one room. You’d never seen such a modest home, with straw blanketing the dirt floor and a small hole in the roof to allow the smoke from the hearth to escape, with only one small window to let in a tiny stream of afternoon light. 

You watched Daryl crush some mix of pungent herbs, water, and oil with a mortar and pestle, his hair hanging like chocolate colored silken drapes over his concentrated face. 

He looked up for a moment, his hooded eyes peeking out between those brunette strands of hair. He chewed his lip, eying your swollen ankle. The guilt hadn’t stopped washing over him since it happened. How could he be so negligent to let you get hurt? 

“I, uh… Found it a long time ago, when the plague broke out.” With the herbs crushed into an oily paste, he carried the stone mortar over to you, kneeling down to lift your ankle onto his thigh. You watched curiously as his fingers scooped up a glob of the slightly purple-toned concoction, then spread the paste over your swollen ankle. “Was fighting the Dead,” he continued as he rubbed more of the coarse cream over your skin. “A swarm cornered me here. Wasn’t much safer, though… An old man and his wife, but the old man had turned, was just about to take a bite of the woman, but I put him down.”

He noticed your shiver, then crossed the room to quickly procure a thick woolen blanket from the small straw bed. 

“Here.” He draped the warm fabric over your shoulders. “Sorry it’s not much.”

“It’s quite all right… What happened to the old lady?” 

He shook his head as he returned to his treatment of your wound. “She was already bit. I was too late… Cared for ‘er as long as I could, but no one knew back then that even just one bite means you’re dead. The fever killed ‘er… And then, I didn’t know she’d turn, too. Found out real quick that’s how it spreads, and that you gotta kill the brain.” He gestured accordingly to his own head. “And now this place is mine, I guess.”

“I thought you lived on your lord’s fief?” you asked. “You live here?”

He used his teeth to rip a piece of cotton gauze from its roll, then lifted your ankle from its place on his leg to wrap it and conceal the herbal remedy. “I travel between,” he said simply. “Stayin’ in one place never suited me.”

To an extent, you understood that. Though you always valued your home, you’d been stuck in one place for so long that it became less of a home and more of a hostage situation. “You must value your freedom,” you remarked. “Tell me, what did you put on my ankle?”

He scoffed through an ever-so-slight, crooked smirk. “You ask many questions, princess.”

A rosy pink blush bloomed upon your cheeks, accompanied by a gentle heat that wasn’t just radiating from the nearby flame of the hearth. “Well,” you said, straightening your back as his words reminded you of your status, “I think I’m entitled to know what kind of remedy you’ve applied to my wound, knight.”

He gently replaced your skirt over your ankles as he spoke, listing the ingredients. “Arnica, witch hazel, lavender… All good for pain and swelling.”

“Oh? You’re skilled in herbalism?”

“Another question…”

You tilted your head in faux offense at the observation. “I’m entitled to ask whatever questions I wish, knight.”

With a huff, he leaned back to scoot himself onto his own pillow, then kicked off his heavy leather boots. “I wouldn’t say ‘skilled’,” he replied at length. “Just… somethin’ I had to learn.”

Curiosity made you raise an eyebrow at that, and your prying was certainly nowhere near its end. “Why?”

Any other person had asked him this many questions about himself, he might’ve lost his nerve and said some rather vulgar things, but you were a lady. More than that, you were a princess. More than that, you were… something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He knew you were beautiful, of course. He had eyes. There was more that drew him to you, that made him care what you thought of him and made him care about you. 

Despite his usual tendency to become frustrated at this kind of questioning, he couldn’t bring himself to feel agitated at all. In fact, he felt at ease, like he wanted to tell you about himself. Somehow, that look in your eyes told him you weren’t just asking because it seemed the proper thing to do—you were asking him these things because you cared to know about him. No one had cared in that way before. Maybe the duke came close, but he didn’t have this effect on the knight. It was unique to you, this wave of earnestness and openness. For such a closed-off man, he found it very hard to keep his guard up much longer. 

Still, he wondered, if he let his guard down too far, could he stop himself from scaring you away? You were a sensitive thing, he’d realized. You were innocent, too. The things he’d seen and done would surely frighten you, chase you away from him when he’d only just begun to grow fond of you in some strange way. The more you knew about him, the more you’d find him repulsive, he thought. And yet, it was still so tempting. 

“Left home when I was sixteen,” he said. “Had to learn how to take care of myself. Well, learned most of that when I was...” He had to stop himself, his lips hanging open slightly in midair. If he kept going, he might’ve revealed too much, how “pathetic” his life had been. Surely you wouldn’t understand. You’d think he was trying to earn your pity, but all he wanted, as he looked into your eyes and melted into them like they were two pools of warm liquid honey, was to know that you cared about the words that struggled to will themselves into existence. Those soft, warm eyes would prove successful in swallowing him whole, into an abyss of unabashed honesty. Why was he bearing his soul? What good would it do? He didn’t know. In fact, he was sure it would only cause you to look down upon him, but he was wise enough to know that no one before had ever really asked about these things. No one before had ever cared like this. That was why he was hesitant—it was simply uncharted territory. But, then again, everything about you was uncharted territory, and if you asked, it must’ve meant you cared.

“When I was a child, my mother died,” he said. “My father couldn’t handle it… Turned to the bottle, became a lousy sot.” He swallowed hard as a bit of bile came to rise in his throat. He wasn’t sure what came over him—except, well, he’d never spoken these words out loud before. Certainly not in front of a princess. You didn’t stop him, though. In fact, you held a soft gaze, encouraging him with your pleading eyes for him to continue, not with pity, but with sympathy. How strange, you opened him up with just your kind, understanding face. “He, uh, would hurt me… Enough to break skin.” He gestured loosely towards the leftover salve. “This stuff would help with the bruises. Needed other things for the cuts, but I know all of it. Helps in war, too.”

Understanding his hesitancy to speak more about his childhood, you inquired about that—war. Perhaps it wasn’t a much more cheerful subject, but there was something you’d been wondering about since you first met the mysterious knight. 

“War… Is that how you got your scar?”

It took him a moment to register your question, as he had so many scars now, it was hard to keep track of them all, but you gestured your finger to point towards his face, and he cursed himself for not thinking of the long red stripe running down over his left eye, At times, you yourself had forgotten it was there, its pigment blending in with the tone of his tanned skin in certain lights, but it had intrigued you since you first saw him. 

“It’s a battle scar,” he answered. “Yeah…” 

“I read that battle scars are honorable to knights.”

“They are,” he responded quickly, as if defending himself, despite a lack of anything to really defend. But his tone soon shifted as he processed your words. “You… read about knights?”

Swallowing hard, you averted your gaze to try to find some respite from the embarrassment of admitting that you found his kind to be fascinating. To say you read about knights would be an understatement. Your father housed an impressive collection of literature in his cabinet, many of which you’d secretly take to the solar and read by candlelight in the wee hours of the morning when a particularly restless sleep became too much to bear. Among those books were the most popular chivalric romances—The Knight’s Tale, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Le Morte d’Arthur, Erec and Enide, Sir Eglamour of Artois… Daryl wasn’t like any of those knights, though. He was… better, you decided. He was real.

“I do,” you spoke shakily. “I—I… know a bit.” You never stuttered. Why were you stuttering? Eugene had all but trained you out of the habit in your public speaking lessons. He hadn’t prepared you for the intensity of Sir Daryl’s gaze, how it reduced your poise to a shiver. And yet still, you were the most poised woman he ever met. 

In fact, he didn’t notice your stuttering at all. It was hard to let anything distract him from every word you said, every open and close of your plush lips that were made glossy and smooth from suet and marjoram, with just a touch of red wine to paint a delicious tint across the plump skin. The musky amber scent of civet oil mingled with the floral marjoram to tickle his nose so heavenly, even from this distance. Each movement of your lips only carried the scent further, like it was floating on angel’s wings to him, and only him. For a brief, anxious moment, he pondered upon the taste, and the texture… How his lips would feel against yours. 

Lust is a sin, he told himself, despite having not paid a visit to a chapel since his knighthood. Still, a knight should respect the laws of God. Like all the knights in the stories you read, he was beginning to face temptation. 

With a quiet huff, he yanked himself from his intrusive thoughts to face you with a slight smirk. “I guess you’re fond of Sir Lancelot?” he asked. 

Not at all, you thought. I am more fond of Sir Daryl. 

It was twilight when you arrived back at the castle, slipping through the Tombs and coming out into the gloomy dungeons in the dark underbelly of the keep. To distract the guards that stood near your chambers, Daryl alerted them to a “walker that must’ve slipped through the walls,” but used the opportunity to sneak you into your room. 

The knight ushered you in the room with a frantically waving hand. With a slight limp from your injury, you stumbled in laughing. Giddy, that was the only way to describe it. You were giddy from adrenaline, and felt a surge of fiery energy flow through you like a match being struck. Indeed, the whole day had been exhilarating, though terrifying at points. Ultimately, it was everything you’d dreamed it would be, and more. 

And you couldn’t help but admit that it felt wonderful to break the rules, to do something reckless for once. You were a little afraid it would become an addictive habit, but it was worth it. To see the things you saw, to behold new landscapes and to feel unburdened by the oppressive walls of that old gray castle… Oh, it was a wonderful feeling.

You couldn’t contain your excitement much longer—when the heavy wooden doors closed with a quiet clack of the latch, you opened your arms to rush towards the knight with an exuberant, but hushed, “We did it!”

His eyes widened as he felt your warm, soft arms around his torso, his chest pressed against yours so close that he could feel your swift heartbeat pounding against your ribcage. Whatever overcame you, it must’ve been born of your excitement, and he couldn’t hide the fact that he was excited, too. For what, he did not know. The day was over, his task was complete. He’d taken you outside the kingdom, allowed you to do as you please as he kept a watchful eye, keeping you safe from harm… Well, there were some slip-ups, but he was successful in his mission. 

Perhaps he was excited because he, too, felt the adrenaline rush, the excursion having been the most treacherous crime he’d ever committed, and he’d committed a few. Petty theft and a few drunken brawls, to be specific, but you’d never know that. Not as long as he could help it. 

Despite his hands and arms floating awkwardly around the curves of your waist, he didn’t dare touch you. There was an innate desire to, of course, but it wouldn’t be right. None of this was right, in truth, but there was no going back now, and he didn’t want to go back. He didn’t regret a thing, and that scared him a little bit. How on Earth could that scare him? Nothing scared him. His own feelings baffled him, especially when that musky amber scent came back with a succulent vengeance to assault his senses with the most indulgent perfume he’d ever had the pleasure of falling victim to. For a moment, he closed his eyes, taking in a quiet, deep inhale. That was the closest he could let himself get to doing anything he might’ve been wanting to do.

When you realized he wasn’t holding you back, you pulled away from the stoic man. Clarity returned to replace the intoxication of the adrenaline, and you cleared your throat to change the atmosphere back to that of knight and princess, not acquaintances of equal standing.

“Thank you, Sir Daryl,” you said. He winced for a moment at the title, having gotten a little accustomed to the simple name upon your lilted voice. Now, it was formal again, direct yet gentle. It still sounded beautiful, the way you spoke, but it was different. Only now, he noticed that it softened even more, as if your words were resting on downy pillows that filled with increasingly plush goose feathers each time you spoke to him. “Today was the best day of my life.”

Quite frankly, he found that very hard to believe. So hard to believe, in fact, that he let out a puff of air between lips that formed a wry smile. “What’re you talkin’ about, woman?”

“Woman?”

“That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes… What I mean to say is, what you’ve done for me today was what I’ve wanted for so long, and now I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Thank you.”

A pregnant silence hung in the air between you before you turned to cross the room over to your vanity, where your jewelry casket sat. You rummaged through to once again procure his payment. 

“No, your highness,” spoke the knight, his steps getting heavy as he approached you from behind. “I told you, I can’t accept that.”

You turned to face him with a smile, and a glimmering ruby brooch encrusted in silver filigree, characterized by delicate, swirling arabesques. “Nonsense,” you replied. “Please, knight. It would please me so for you to take this… And, there’s always more… For next time.”

Raising his eyes from the gem in your hand, he searched your gaze for earnestness. Indeed, you looked not unlike you had that night you begged him. You had that desperation in your eyes, that lust for freedom and exploration. The difference was, there was now a smile upon your face. That was even more tempting for him. A smile like that was dangerous, as he was sure you could just about convince him of anything. 

“Next time?”

“Yes, next time my father is gone. Of course, if you’re agreeable to it.”

Agreeable to it? Your beauty was intoxicating, and exposure to it was like radiation—surely no good for him in the long run. That all being said, there was something tempting about the danger of it all, the wrongness. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, not since before he was bound by the laws of chivalry. It was wrong of him to do this with you, but it had an effect like theriac; it was both an antidote and an addiction. 

With a hefty huff, he took the jewel from your hand, stuffing it into the simple embroidered chaneries hanging from his belt. 

That night, he agreed to another excursion, whenever that might be. Now, he seemed to be officially at your every beck and call, waiting for the signal to come and rescue you from your entrapment. In a way, he himself had become trapped, a chaperon condemned to serve you until your whims ebbed and flowed away from him and his outside world that he knew so well. It wasn’t this in itself that frightened him, though—it was the fact that when he thought of the next time he’d have to be your escort, subject to your will, he smiled. This realization of his devotion to you made the subconscious depths of his mind aware of one important thing: you weren’t just any princess, you were his princess.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

[babywchronicles]

Review: The Junior Witch’s Handbook

Here's a review of The Junior Witch’s Handbook: A Kid’s Guide to White Magic, Spells, and Rituals, By Nikki Van De Car and Illustrated by Uta Krogmann.

I thought to myself as I was browsing through my local library’s catalogue: “Why not start basic?” And to me, when I saw this book on witchcraft for children, that seemed about as basic as you could get. “Speak to me like a child,” I told this book. “Talk to me like I know nothing.”

The books isn’t long, about 100 pages, but it is Junior Fiction, so one shouldn’t expect anything grandiose. Though, there are some books for adults on witchcraft that don’t top that, so who am I to judge? More important than length is that this book packs a lot of information in it for the page count.

There are a range of ideas, spells, and rituals in this book—as one would expect—but it’s all kept simple. The language is age-appropriate, which means it is very concise and easy to understand. The book doesn’t complicate things the way some “adult” witch books do. That is a very good thing for kids, but I think I also got a lot out of it. There was the information I wanted to know, written in a way that was easy to understand, and was accessible to me as someone who is, though I started looking into it years ago, still very new. A “Baby Witch” as it were. Read on under the cut.

The book is separated into sections: An introduction, a list of things needed for witchcraft—so far, so standard—and then breaks the spells and rituals following into those of “Friends”, “Fulfillment”, and “Family”. A glossary sits at the end, which I love for all informational books, honestly, and feel as though I am rarely granted.

The “Things You’ll Need” section goes over tools and supplies: Altar, Crystals, Herbs, Essential Oils, all that good stuff. It also has a table of different things you can substitute in for other things. Like, this is the best thing ever. I’m sure some out there will insist that you have to have THE right ingredients every single time, but I have no money, so this sort of thing is a life saver. I don’t necessarily need permission to mix and match, but having a handy little table there for me to reference is amazing. Takes the pressure off.

Breaking the book down into the three main components—friends, fulfillment, and family—is so good. To kids, those things are very central to their lives (And non-kids too, let’s be real here).

In the friends section alone, the book goes through sending out energy to invite new friends, how to connect with friends through witchcraft, strengthening friendships, but also—and this is so cool to me—has a while subsection called “Healing” that goes through meditations for anger, compassion, and letting go of hurt feelings. There is acknowledgment here that friends and life sometimes go wrong, people fight, feelings get hurt… And the book stresses this, and then gives methods of handling it positively. How cool is that!?

In the “Fulfilment” section, there is a good amount of self care talked about, and how to accomplish that through witchcraft. There is talk of luck, creativity, courage—but there is also a ritual for loving yourself when things go wrong; how to center yourself so you can try again. It also talks about making your own oracle deck, which sounds like the best idea for me, honestly. I just can’t get one to work for me. Thank you, witchcraft for children book. You the grace I needed right now.

The book further goes into things like cleansing, having a guardian for your home, celebrations (wheel of the year type stuff) in the “Family” section. All good stuff.

And you want to know WHAT ELSE is good about this book? The rituals, spells, and the like are often 1 or 2 pages of information. This is the sort of non-complicated, simple, PLEASE-talk-to-me-like-I’m-11 stuff I need in my life. It’s undaunting. It’s useful. It’s accessible. I want o hold this book to the moon and scream in relief and thanks.

This books teaches about magic, while also acknowledging key importances around making friends, being with your family, and loving yourself. And, as I have said before, it talks to you like you are new, like you don’t know the detailed concepts, big words, or complex ideas… And for someone who is so easily put off by complexity when I know nothing, this is so good for me.

Take note, Adult Witchcraft Books: Stop being so serious and complicated. A little care and gentleness for your friends, your family, yourself, and your readers is good for the soul. Well done.

Two thumbs up from me. How do rating systems go? I might buy this book.

[amadeusgame]

July Devlog - Amadeus: A Riddle for Thee ~ Episode 1 ~ Waltz

Quick overview of all changes/updates implemented this month:

MUSIC: wrote almost all remaining music for Episode 1, and recorded some live parts for certain tracks

MYSTERY: created a "glossary" menu in the backlog notebook for reference (including things like the terms of the Witch's deal, etc)

SAVE/LOAD: system can now handle loading from multiple "progression points" within each scene

AUDIO IMPLEMENTATION: code for seamless audio looping (with reverb tail) exists now and works

TEXT SYSTEM: scrolling text can now support rich text codes, including font style changes mid-text

POINT-AND-CLICK SYSTEM: there is now a visual change to the background image when hovering over an interactible object

UI DESIGN: started reformatting main menu - still in progress

The rest of this development log is a lot more personal than usual, and is quite long. This month has been a lot, and I want to talk about how that impacted my ability to work on this game.

Read on below the cut.

More on Amadeus: linktr.ee/amadeusgame

The fact I have still done so much is a testament to how much this game means to me, and how much it helps to acknowledge when I just can't do what I planned to do and need to re-prioritize.

I was severely set back this month because of health issues. This resulted in a compounded setback because the health issues made me more easily frustrated by life in general, so any development issues ballooned into perceived catastrophes.

I eventually identified that I was really stuck on a few particular aspects of the finalfinal-final-forrealfinal vision for the game:

Design - I hadn't sat down with my overall art direction since finishing the demo. It was still feeling rather demo-y from a design perspective and I became self-conscious about this. On the other hand, I was really stressed about whether changing anything about the design philosophy this late would create exponentially more work for me as an artist, and feeling like I might have to choose between quality and finishing.

Narrative - although I'd written Episode 1 in full, I wanted to do more foreshadowing of much-later reveals. As I started considering how to do this, I began to worry about being so heavy-handed with it that I would give everything away and completely undermine the whole project before it gets going. I was too afraid of striking the right balance to make any actual progress.

Build/Implementation - a lot of mechanics were still buggy, and in addition to fixing them, I still needed to do a lot of tedious and very manual work to build the remaining scenes of the game. This work felt so mind-numbing that I had no desire to do it, and yet it still needed to be done. A perfectly demotivating combination.

Over-fragmentation - at this point in the game's development, the fact that all of my tasks for it were separated by category in Asana ("art"/"audio"/"mechanics," etc) made it difficult to see the dependencies in how these all come together, which in turn made it difficult to manage the remaining tasks to ship the game. It seemed like my to-do lists were all invisibly interconnected and felt impossible to track progress.

Once I realized I was stuck, and was stressed out by my to-do list but not actually working on it, I ignored my actual planned tasks for that week and gave myself a new assignment of figuring out how to get un-stuck and feel less overwhelmed. This mostly came in the form of asking friends for advice. It also involved following my own advice I love to give other people, which is "acknowledge when a system isn't working for you and change it." I went from feeling frustrated, lost, demotivated, and stressed to really excited after some self-reflection and 2 conversations.

Over-fragmentation

...Technically 3 conversations, as the fragmentation issue was solved thanks to an earlier conversation I had last month with a different friend about my narrative workflow. After talking with her, I started using Notion to manage the writing side of things. I built out different projects for each particular scene so I could have not just the text embedded, but also additional notes on metanarrative information, links to BGM inspirations, checklists, and more. This was something I did just to make it easier to finish writing the full script of the game, and it was definitely a game changer (hah).

I initially built it out as a writing tool, but now that the game is in the final stages of development, I find it is useful to think about all of my remaining tasks like this. It helps to consider them holistically in terms of the multimedia scene(s) they relate to, not as discrete and disconnected art/audio/mechanics needs. Once I realized this, I spent a weekend migrating all of my Asana checklists into the scene-based projects I'd already made in Notion. This was a lot of work, but it is now much easier to see a direct path from the current state of Amadeus to a finished game. And it gives me achievable goals on the way there: discrete checklists for finishing individual scenes, which are playtest-able while I work on the rest!

(I still use Asana to manage big picture stuff as well as recurring reminders and what I plan to do each week, but the specific tasks pertaining to the build of Amadeus Episode 1 all live in Notion now.)

Narrative

To address my narrative bottleneck I first had to get over the thought that spoiling my narrative to a particular friend would ruin it for them. Once I actually asked them if they'd like to be Amadeus Spoiler Friend #2 (because I was desperate and knew I needed more help workshopping the narrative), they were so enthusiastic I regretted not asking them several months earlier. We set up a voice call, I told them everything, and we bounced ideas on certain Very Important Topics.

I know that the more I have figured out from the very outset, the stronger the whole series will be; so I am very excited about this.

This friend also asked some questions that I hadn't thought to ask myself before (even though, in retrospect, they seem obvious) - and answering those questions gave me solid direction for finishing this installment in a way that's fun and also should pay off really well later. Then after our conversation they also offered to proofread certain sneaky things I am doing from the lens of their Forbidden Knowledge.

Talking to them has made me feel much better about my reveal/foreshadowing pacing, and I have someone I can ask directly about my "is this too on-the-nose" concerns, which helps a ton. Also, it just felt good to hear someone say "oohhhh, that's really cool!" about something I can't talk about until way later, because I THINK SO TOO I'M GLAD YOU ALSO THINK SO.

Build/Implementation

As for build issues, I talked to a friend (listen, the power of friendship got me through this month, I'm not going to lie) who is a career game developer, and who previously worked in Unity although he doesn't anymore. I used to worked with him on game jam games... the first of which was in 2016... when I was fresh out of undergrad composing exclusively in MuseScore. In a roundabout way, it's partially thanks to him that I eventually built a portfolio to go to grad school, which in turn got me to make Amadeus and also become a (much worse) Unity developer myself. Funny how things work out.

Anyway, I really enjoyed talking to him. He is non-judgmental - he knows I've taken exactly one Unity/C# course and have learned the rest by trial, error, and StackExchange.

He gave the best possible advice for where I am currently at in development: since I've built almost everything, even if I've done it with the world's jankiest spaghetti, the most important thing right now is to Just Finish It. But once it's done, we're going to have another call where we can discuss how to refactor everything to make my life a million times easier making Episode 2.

But it wasn't all about planning for Episode 2. He also helped me identify how I can slightly tweak some of my existing structure to automate more things that I've been doing incredibly manually. We effectively made a list of "here are the things to do NOW to make things simpler, and here are the things that are not worth fixing at this stage but we can talk about for Episode 2." (Example of a quick NOW fix: instead of dragging a reference to my Menu Settings script to every single slider and button in my menu, just have a script in the parent for all of those menu sliders/buttons that automatically grabs the sliders and buttons in its children and assigns it that reference. Then I only have to assign the reference ONCE to the parent. Seems so obvious now! I need to be doing a lot more stuff in scripts to just make my own life easier.)

In the grand scheme, though, that advice wasn't the most helpful thing he told me by a long shot.

In our conversation, since he is a developer who chose that career because he enjoys it, he started talking about focusing on what I LIKE about building the game. When I open Unity, what do I find fun, and want to do more of? Obviously I should also take note of the major pain points so we can reduce the amount of time I have to deal with them in future episodes; but he also told me to pay attention to what I really like to do.

I'm going to be completely honest. I'd completely forgotten that building the game itself was something that was, at one point, fun. When I was first building the game, it involved a ton of interesting problem-solving. It was asking myself "I wonder if I can figure out how to do this..." and being excited when the answer was "yes." It was showing off by doing way beyond what the Unity class homework assignment asked. It STOPPED being fun after I'd built all of the baseline mechanics I wanted to use, and then my to-do list slowly - so slowly I didn't realize it was happening - shifted from "stuff I want to build," into "stuff I think other people will want me to implement."

And while many of these mechanics are indeed important and good, it is not particularly motivating to build mechanics just because I think someone else will want me to build them. For the past several months I have been programming for other people and not for myself.

I really, really appreciate this next bit of advice this developer friend gave me. He prefaced it by saying "now I don't usually advise people to increase scope, but..." and that's how you know it's good advice! It is clearly tailored to ME and what I find motivating. His point was: this is MY game. I'm building it entirely myself. So if there's anything that I'm curious about, anything that's made me think, "hmmm, I wonder if I can figure out how to do this?" - then I should just do that. It's my game, I'm not building it for anyone else. I can build stupid mechanics for no reason. I can, and should, try building stuff just because it would be cool.

And that was so incredibly motivating. I actually HAD been thinking of a particular "what-if" mechanic, a mechanic I'd actually literally said "man, it would be cool if..." to my writer friend in our conversation from a few days earlier! But I'd given up on it because it seemed not as important as other things I "should" be working on. This new advice gave me permission to prioritize self-indulgence, not just in writing/art/direction/music, but in the programming of the game itself. There's a reason I am making a game, and not another form of media! I find the process of building the (janky) mechanics myself fun, interesting, and rewarding! It lets me play with the part of my brain that watches math YouTube videos for fun, in addition to the part of my brain that likes making music that goes dugga dugga and drawing pretty pictures.

Opening up the engine and writing code is supposed to be something that makes me feel like a cackling evil wizard, not a bored and frustrated person going through the motions because they have to. There is no obligation. I am making this because I want to make a game.

Soooo after this conversation I immediately built three things that I'm really happy with.

Text now supports rich text codes, which means I can be REALLY tacky with fonts and colors and all sorts of stuff.

(Obligatory this-is-a-WIP disclaimer but the finished game will probably be comparable in terms of how much psychic damage it deals to graphic designers.)

Now, Unity's TextMeshPro supports rich text by default, so you may be wondering why I haven't been doing this all along. Two reasons: one, I didn't realize that until recently. Two, the way my text-auto-scroll mechanic worked was NOT compatible with this. I had to completely re-work the entire logic of that mechanic so that it wouldn't also visibly type out the characters " <style= " in the textbox. But after making the necessary changes, which was a headache but it's fine I figured it out finally, I HAVE BEEN HAVING SO MUCH MORE FUN IMPLEMENTING TEXT!

BGM with a reverb tail can now loop seamlessly, which I really wanted for a very important later scene I've been working on.

This was one of those things I'd been putting off as a "nice-to-have" and figured I shouldn't spend time on until I finished working on "essential" stuff, but after this conversation I decided to just sit down and make it. It was really easy! It only took me like an hour, including time to research! I'm actually really excited about this because I hate basically every audio middleware program in existence (Wwise, I'm looking at you) and it's so much easier and more convenient to just do this in Unity.

In fact, this is pretty much the only script I have that is super generic and not tied up in lots of other Amadeus-specific spaghetti, so if you have a use for it I put it on GitHub here: https://github.com/ArcanaXIX/UnityScripts/

Hovering on interactible objects now visibly changes the appearance of the object, in addition to the existing cursor changes.

Actual implementation needs to be tweaked a lot, but this was my first time using sprite masks in Unity and it was very fun getting it to work. "Background objects visually change on hover" was another mechanic I had been considering for a while, but I was thinking about doing it very manually by rendering a unique sprite for every single interactible and then activating that sprite when it's active. This would require so much extra art and very hands-on implementation, so I had given up on it.

Once I turned it into a question of implementation, it became less manual (I no longer need to redraw every single interactible object) and also a fun challenge to learn more about Unity functionality. The only additional art assets needed are something with roughly the right shape to use as a mask, and then an alternate version of the full background art which can be really easily made by just applying a filter.

Here is the version of that background art that I'm using as a proof-of-concept, which was made in about 2 seconds by just converting the existing image to a 1-bit layer:

I will be experimenting with what exactly I want the highlighted areas to look like, but once I've found a process I like, it will be really easy to just apply that to all of the background images.

After importing the asset, I just added some very simple code to reveal part of this alternate art using sprite masks when you hover over interactible objects. The only detail work using this process is in the sprite masks for each interactible, which don't have to be perfect for it to look good, just approximate. Pretty straightforward and feels good. 

I'm really satisfied by how well it works even as just a functional placeholder - this is with using the "N" key sprite as a mask for testing purposes. I intend to do more than just add a black outline, but again, functional placeholder:

(I'm too lazy to make a GIF, but imagine the window there is brown pencil like everything else until you hover over it and then the black lines appear. I'll definitely be making a new gameplay trailer once this is in better shape, so look forward to that if you want to see it in action.)

Which brings me to...

Design

...except not really! I just needed to realize from my playing around in Unity that "Design" is not a separate and distinct thing that can be tackled independently from implementation. Implementation is a driving force of design. By approaching implementation with joy and excitement, I have also found an avenue to address the game's design needs. I'm going ham with fonts and figuring out what visual direction I want to take the interactible mask layer.

Instead of treating the "design guy" and "implementation guy" in my brain as two coworkers who vaguely dislike interacting with each other, if I imagine them as two coworkers who are both stoked and insane about this project and each other's work, the collaboration becomes really fun. The implementation guy shows the design guy this mechanic they built and the design guy goes "oh, I can have SO much fun with this. I'll be right back with some placeholder assets so we can see what looks good!"

Motivation

I think the actual message of this devlog, at its heart, is exactly the same as last month's. I've just been repeatedly coming to the realization that I keep trying to make a "good" game, by some generic "objective" definition of "good," and it's made me miserable. What I really should be doing is making an incredibly self-indulgent game. That means a game I find fun to build, too!

Amadeus is not going to be a broadly marketable smash success. It has a chance, when it's completely finished, of gaining a cult following by word-of-mouth via people going "you have to just trust me and play all 5 episodes of this. We can't talk about it until you're finished though." But, as its sole author and artist and musician and developer, Amadeus is something that I need to make in a very certain way to prove a point. It's coming entirely from within, and I am absolutely determined to finish it, so I must be self-indulgent.

Let's not get it twisted, though: I don't believe that self-indulgent and good are at odds. Spending a couple days making mechanics for fun actually made the game better! But in a project like this, where my primary goal is personal artistic expression, and my secondary goal is proving I can finish a major project... motivation is the most valuable currency in the universe, and therefore self-indulgence matters more than anything else.

I am speaking so passionately about how motivating it was to talk to people who understand my priorities and are excited about meeting me where I'm at, because without motivation this game would never be finished, and I want to be very honest about the fact that finding ways to stay motivated has been crucial.

I would also like to contrast these motivating conversations with how demotivating it is to receive feedback from folks who, shall we say, are missing the mark on what this game is and seeks to be.

While I sincerely believe that Amadeus: A Riddle for Thee is going to be good, there are a few things to keep in mind about it. These are things that I think are pretty obvious, but just in case they aren't:

It is made by one person.

With a budget of $0 and all of my spare time.

With a very strong professional background in audio, 

And the scrappiest DIY skillset in everything else.

That's not to say it can't still aim to have smoother player experience, to have stronger visual cues, to be better written, to be a better work of art. Those are in fact all things that I have been constantly working toward and seeking feedback to improve, because I do want other people to engage with it and have a positive experience. I am making this to share with other people. But I will occasionally receive feedback that seems to want to steer Amadeus in the direction of your average Kickstarter-funded publisher-backed title with 15 people working on it, and not a solo passion project.

The remainder of this devlog is written as objectively as I can while very demonstrably being upset about it. I debated removing this section entirely, but I think it's important to discuss, because this kind of thing can really impact development when you're a team of one person.

I also know that normally this kind of feedback wouldn't bother me so much, but since I received it after going on 2 weeks of dealing with the onset of a new chronic pain issue (which has been a massive stressor), it utterly tanked my mood.

Dismissive, Demotivating Feedback

I received the following feedback as "things to work on" from an anonymous juror evaluating my game for an indie game event.

When first meeting the witch the dialog is just incredibly long and boring and I ended up skipping through most of it. Given how linear this story seems to be, I think it would be better suited as a webcomic or a motion comic, not a visual novel. The interactivity hinders, rather than helps, in this case.

All due respect: who are you writing this critique for? For me, to make my game better? Or for you, to validate your own preferences? I think the answer to that is clear.

This is an obvious--and egregious--example of particularly demotivating feedback, but since it is real feedback I have really received, I want to talk about it. Specifically, I want to talk about how much it sucks to hear this.

This isn't actionable, unless you count "throw everything away and do something else" as an action worth taking. This makes no attempt to meet me where I'm at or consider my reasons or motivations for making the game as I have. It does not even consider that there may be aspects of the interactivity that are crucial to how the story will unfold; I'll acknowledge that the currently-live demo does not do much to showcase this, but this feedback has already decided that there is no such intention and I've wasted my time making a game.

My actionable feedback is to go make a webcomic instead. It also insists that my writing is boring, but doesn't tell me how to make the Witch dialogue more engaging (which, I have received other feedback from others addressing the same topic, who did give me specific and actionable feedback that has since been implemented). It just tells me that it's boring and they didn't like it.

And what's worse, this was feedback submitted by a juror evaluating my game for an indie games event. This kind of feedback sucks no matter what, even if it's just somebody leaving a public comment. But this is an individual who, in a certain context, was given some manner of influence, authority, and merit; and given this authority and merit, their feedback amounted to, "why did you even make a game?"

The rest of this juror's feedback was similarly dismissive and made it clear they did not like the game. That is understandable. However, it made no attempt to acknowledge that this game does have an audience, even if it's decidedly not this juror. Every single other juror's feedback at least understood that Amadeus has certain priorities and gave feedback that was more or less aligned with those priorities, but this one did not seem to think I've ever so much as had anyone else playtest it. In fact, they effectively said as much:

I get the feeling that this is an experience that makes a perfect amount of sense to the developer but that there hasn't been any attempt made to make it playable for someone who doesn't already know the garden path.

And this is feedback from before I decided to become more self-indulgent! This was the reaction to the game in a state I was actually trying to make even slightly marketable! I suppose in a way it validates my current priorities, because even when I try to prioritize quality over self-indulgence, people like this will still assume I've prioritized self-indulgence and write dismissive feedback about it anyway.

This feedback sucks so much I've dedicated a full segment of my monthly write-up to discussing it. Because as I've already mentioned, when you are one person making an entire and incredibly ambitious game entirely by yourself, motivation is the most valuable currency in the world. In that currency, things like this are expensive.

Further, when you are one person, you are ill equipped to handle things like "100% of your development team suddenly has a new health issue" and can't delegate the role of Accepting Bad Feedback With Grace to someone else in a better mood. I probably wouldn't even be mentioning this if it weren't for the pain that came on this month, but the pain happened and it has tangibly impacted my ability to work on this game, and put me in a place where this kind of feedback was the single last thing I needed to hear.

I know very well what the professional wisdom on this kind of topic is. The professional wisdom is: if feedback hurts, that's because part of it may be true; don't use "it's a solo project" as an excuse for shortcomings of your indie game. If you can't do something, form a team with someone who can cover your weaknesses. The player doesn't care how many people made it, they only care if it's good. Don't whine when people point out that your scrappy indie project feels scrappy.

That's valuable wisdom for someone trying to make a profitable career in games. That's also precisely what I intend to do after I finish Amadeus: take on a more collaborative project with a group of people I trust - we have a tentative team, but I've told them all they have to wait until I've proven I can ship this whole 5-part game. I'm not ready to lead a collaboration until I first finish Amadeus and prove that I know how to manage a project of this scope from beginning to end. Beyond that, of course, it is personally important for me to share Amadeus's story before I worry about other projects.

"Put together a team to cover your weaknesses instead of making excuses" is not valuable wisdom when the entire point of a particular project is that it derives meaning from being one person's vision. That is what Amadeus is. It's far more about expression than quality, even if in my opinion, good expression is quality.

I sought feedback from this indie event because I hoped that indie spaces would understand that "indie" can mean anything from "personal multimedia art piece" to "modest budget and team of folks who quit their AAA careers to follow their passions." I've also really enjoyed attending this particular event myself, and have made meaningful connections with developers who have showcased at it previously. That's a big reason I took this feedback so personally - I had higher expectations that my work would be respected for what it is from this feedback.

Oh well.

At any rate, the lesson I learned from this was not that I should go make a webcomic, or that the music in Amadeus is too dissonant.

(I got that feedback as well, but it's easier to shrug off critiques related to audio because I am extremely confident in my abilities as a musician. I have an ego too big to deflate on that front.)

The lesson I learned from this was that my intentions are always going to be dismissed and misinterpreted by some people. There's nothing I can do about that, so I might as well make what I want to make with full authenticity, and hope the people who are interested in listening will hear what I have to say.

[silvermoon424]

Madoka question: does the show/supplementary material ever explain how Familiars come into existence along with Witches? I was discussing this with a friend and I realized that while a lot is inferred I couldn't remember an explicit explanation.

Yes, there actually is an explanation! According to a magazine interview given when the Madoka PSP game was released, familiars are "projections of the magical girl's heart before she became a witch."

For example, Candeloro's (Mami's Witch) familiars resemble Kyoko and Madoka, symbolizing Mami's desire to be with them. Oktavia's (Sayaka's Witch) has a familiar that resembles Kyosuke, and in one of the timelines also has familiars that look like Hitomi. Charlotte's familiars look like nurses, which (if we go by the Magia Record explanation of Nagisa's backstory) would have been a common sight for Nagisa as she visited her mother in the hospital every day.

Also, the official glossary term from the PMMM website provides more explanation on familiars:

"Lesser monsters divided out of the essence of a witch. Though normally assigned the task of maintaining and defending their mistress' barrier, it seems that they can eventually gain independence and stray to form their own barriers."

So basically, familiars are created from the essence of their parent Witch and are a projection of her heart at the time she became a Witch. They perform various duties around the barrier.

[rosewaterandivy]

nature offers a violence

PROLOGUE

w.c. 1004

series m.list | glossary | next chapter

In a valley, past the glen and bustling village, on a small plot of land lives a cunning woman. She stands before her wooden altar, rubbing her thumb against a carved piece of antler— her runes. She casts them upon the altar, briefly considering that maybe she is dabbling in something she ought not to be. Casting her eye far ahead in a story that is not hers. But it is gone in a flash.

A daughter. One who will know her people better than herself. Born on the second day of Mörsugur, ushering in the season of ice. Her love for her people will be steadfast and true.

Taking the runes in hand, she casts their lot once more. From outside comes a playful shout across the clearing. The others will be waiting for her. She doesn’t have much time before her husband will come looking for her, wanting this or that.

She will be good and kind and just. In the world, but not of it, devoted to her people as they are devoted to her. The girl will have her father’s heart and steel. She will have a full life. But there…

The witch peers closer at how one rune lays over the top of another and purses her lips.

There will be another who will love her more than any who came before. He will live among her people for a time, forging bonds of friendship and sowing seeds of affection. Something terrible will tear him from her. It will take him home to the land from which he comes, a land far from anything she will know. He will be crowned in chestnut and honey from the mantle of hair that sits upon his head. It is a noble color, telling of his closeness to with the earth and hinting of things to come. He is a good man, one of standing, a hero amongst his people and hers.

She cannot ignore the part of herself that lurches at the thought of someone injuring the Chieftain’s daughter, romantically or otherwise. She will prepare. There must be a way to prevent it. She will have to nurture and hone her craft beyond that of the herbal remedies in which she trades. She does not know when he will come or from where but she will be ready. She will not allow him to take that which is her Chieftain’s by blood.

The elkhorn runes are scooped from their place on the wooden altar and placed back in their small leather pouch. She ties them to a loop at the hip of her skirts. In the clearing between her home and her hut, her husband waits. The air is warm, but carries the promise of winter in its scent— crisp and fresh. As she steps outside, she feels a quickening in her womb.

Her son will be born in three seasons’ time, during Sólmánuður on Midsommar. The Chieftain’s daughter will be born two seasons later during the harshest storm of the year. Her arrival will bring victory over the darkness. She will be good and kind and just. And she will never, ever be taken from those who love her most.

An ocean away, on wind-whipped battlements stands a cloaked figure. The soothsayer is alone and glancing up toward the sky, following the flight of a mated pair of ravens. A storm is coming soon, one that will bring a much-needed respite for the kingdom’s crops. But the king and queen already know this. 

He notes the pattern with his eyes, cataloging their movements to document later. There is a brief moment of doubt, that maybe he is doing something he ought not to. Reading a story that has yet to be told and one that is not his own. But it flickers away as a flash of lightning cracks the horizon. 

The ravens depart, as does the soothsayer. 

A son. One who will forge his own path. Born in the last gasps of summer, ushering in the season of harvest. His character will be steadfast and true.

Descending the stairs of the flanking tower, he crosses over the cobblestones and makes his way through the guardhouse gate. Around him, there are jovial shouts of knights and captains readying for patrol. 

He will be valorous and steadfast. Of the world, but not in it, with a bravery to rival that of his father. The boy will have his mother’s tender heart but carry his father’s burden. He will have a full life. But there…

The soothsayer stops short at the stairs of the keep. Steps out of the way for various courtiers and begs their pardon. He purses his lips, recalling the low swooping flight of the mated pair.

There will be another whom he will love more than any other. Something will take this golden boy from the safety of the castle walls to live amongst the raiding tribes. A land far from anything he will know. There is a girl borne from the ice and snow, they will crown her in a mantle of bone. It is a good omen, telling of her ascension to glory and hinting at things to come. She is a good woman, fierce and devoted, a queen amongst her people and his.

Ascending the stairs of the keep, the soothsayer cannot ignore the part of himself that reviles the thought of this loss. Such is the inevitability of things. He is not meant to pay them in courtesy and platitudes, but to deliver the truth of the matter— as his liege so often reminds him. He spares a thought for his tenderhearted queen, so jubilant in the prospect of motherhood and as round as if she swallowed the sun, radiant in dappled gold from the swell of the season.

The queen's son will be born by summer’s end, a fine omen for the bountiful harvest. The boy will be good and kind and just. And he will, as the fates ordained, be taken from the one who wished for him most.

[cocogrrrl]

drifters

you're willing to put yourself through hell for him, but a freak accident causes the situation to make him the one near death's row instead.

Kenny McCormick x gn!reader (Killjoys AU) cw: injury, mentions of drugs, usage of alcohol, themes of war wc: 4228 (minus the references in the beginning)

an: although its relatively easy to infer the lore and slang, I've provided a glossary n a bit of lore for those unfamiliar :D hope u enjoy this cause i sure did!

After the Fire Wars of 2012, California has been under a tyrannical rule lead by the quasi-governmental corporation named Better Living Industries. The company promises eternal happiness through "the sanctity of monocromaticism." Better Living Industries subjects the people of Battery City to brainwashing, heavily through the use of drugs to negate all emotions and possibly even memories. They keep an eye on every single one of the people under their control, prohibiting them from anything that can make them experience sort of feelings Killjoys are the people who live in the zones outside of Battery City. They oppose the ways of Better Living Industries and work to survive outside of their rule as well as to take them down. KN - Killjoy Name (Separate from YN) Zones - Area outside Battery City. Cordial - Slang for moonshine. BLi - Better Living Industries, can be abbreviated to BL/ind as well Dracs - (Short for Draculoids) Members of BLi’s SCARECROW unit that are ordered to kill (Usually anything that hold emotional attachment, such as relationships). Cloud - A group, and sometimes encampment, of dracs. Pangea - Culmination of three or more groups. Dusted - To die/be dead. Ghosted - See dusted Route Guano - The main road through the zones. Drifting - A relationship that is not platonic, romantic or sexual, but a combination or something outside of it. Often usually portrayed as go-with-the-flow thing. Ray gun - Shoots lasers! Pew, pew, pew! Used by killjoys and draculoids Phoenix Witch - A mystical creature that resides in the zones, guiding departed souls of killjoys. Ember Bridge - To abandon your team. Clap - A fight (not limited to, but usually) between a killjoy and a drac. Costa Rica - to go downhill. ** Very well aware they are from Colorado 😨 It’s just that the setting is in California. ** Tommy Chow Mein is a major supplier of a multitude of products in the zones. I changed it to Timmy Chow Mein in reference to Timmy Burch from South Park. ** The Trans AM is the car that the fab four killjoys drive.

—————

(I refer to the main four here by their hero names, since creating Killjoy names for them would cause a hell lot of confusion.)

“KN,” you heard Mysterion mumble your name with a slurred tongue against your hair, bodies flush against each other. You only hummed in reply. “So fuckin’ pretty. My eyes are only for you.”

“You’re absolutely shitfaced right now, aren’t you?” You laughed, turning your body to look at him and caress his face.

“I didn’t even have that much.” He rolled his eyes, playfully pouting. “Even if I wasn’t jacked on cordial right now, I’d still tell you that.”

“You’re funny.” You hummed, brushing a hair off his face to lean in and kiss him. Kissing him gently and savoring the quiet you two had together.

“Hell yeah, I am.” He started giggling, giddiness radiating from the smile on his face because of your show of affection.

“You ever think this is gonna end? Like, one day, BLI’s finally overthrown, and we’re left to build a new society?” You mused, playing with the flyaway hair spread all over the pillows.

“God, I hope so.” He sighed, his happy smile turning into one of a melancholic grin.

“Yeah? Do you think you’ll be excited if it happens?”

“When it happens, sugar,” he corrected, bringing a finger up to your face. ”But, I think so. I’m not sure what I’ll do after. I’ll definitely be with my family, but I don’t know what comes next.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, burying your face into the warm flesh of his chest. “It seems like war is all we know at this point.”

“I’m gonna have to unlearn it at some point once this is all over.” He murmured, a hand of his finding itself brushing your hair. ”As fun as it is sometimes, hell isn’t worth kicking ass. I’d rather be elderly on a porch than worry if I’ll live to see the next day.”

“You’ll get there one day.” You hummed.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll make sure of it.”  You were just spewing bullshit out of your mouth. These were promises you knew damn well you couldn’t keep. Even if it was a mere stretch away from you, that reality was covered in thorns. Despite your unfaithful oath, it was your personal mission to keep him safe.

 You felt a kiss laid on the top of your head. “Such a darling, sugar.”

“I know.”

———

“Wait, wait, wait,” you sighed, shaking your head in confusion. “There’s a cloud nearby, and we’re gonna storm them?”

“Yeah,” The Coon, promptly replied.

“Just the five of us are going to attack them?”

“Mhm,” this time Toolshed nodded.

“Aren’t we gonna die?! Unless a Pangea’s gonna happen, it sounds like we’re actually asking to get dusted!” You burst, jaw agape in shock.

“KN, we have no other choice. It’s either that or we wait for them to ambush the diner.” Human Kite sighed, parking a little off Route Guano. You all could see the encampment the dracs had set up not too far away.

“I guess you have a point.”

You felt a hand place itself on top of yours. It was Mysterion’s. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. “It gonna be okay, KN.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“...Thanks, Mysterion.” You couldn’t help but smile at him, knowing his words were tainted in falsehood anyway. There was no way telling of how this was gonna end.

This lifestyle was not one for the romantics. This life was not for the optimist.

Hell sunk itself in the modern day and, as a result, many people of all ages, sizes, and hearts are left to fight for their life depended on it.

You took a deep breath as you five exited the vehicle, finding a few large stones to hide behind. You waited for Human Kite’s lead. At one, you’ll jump in and get in a clap with the dracs.

You could either end up living or be killed, yet both outcomes scared you fiercely. If you survive, then that means you’d have to relive this experience again. If you get ghosted, then it’s game over.

But those two were just mere bad thoughts to the grand nightmare that was losing Mysterion. 

You two weren’t together. You two were just drifters, existing outside of the space of platonic, romantic, and sexual desires. You joked with each other like best friends, kissed like lovers, and persevere like partners—although any sort of action you guys had were few and far between.

You cherished those moments, though. You cherished him. Every single goddamn inch of whatever he had to offer. His touch, his brightness, his smile, his kindness, his scars that littered his body, his heart full of gold that was fueled out of retribution. 

Losing him was your greatest fear, even if you knew he wasn’t yours to begin with.

However, there was no turning back now. You guys were here. For all you know, you could’ve been spotted already.

 Human Kite started to count down as soon as you knew it.

“Five,” he whispered.

“Four,” you held your breath, looking over to the group of unsuspecting Dracs.

“Three,” you tightened your grip on your ray gun you bought years ago at a vending machine—back when you still lived in the city.

“Two,” you swiftly glanced at Mysterion, savoring his beauty with the fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second you had left.

“One.” 

All five of you jumped into the scene and started to blast the Dracs—dust from the ground quickly flying everywhere and blinding everyone. Amidst the cloud of sand, you could make out faint, white silhouettes. That’s how you knew where to shoot.

Both hands tight on your ray gun, you shot every Drac you saw, inching closer towards the center of their camp—where it was most dangerous. You had to wipe the dracs out for the safety of not just your friends but even the other gangs that settled near here.

One of them came flying at you, and by the Phoenix Witch’s grace, you were briskly able to dodge it. They barely missed you and instead landed face-first into the sand. Putting one foot on their back to hold them down, you shot them in the head. One zap to kill him, and then another to rid your frustrations.

“KN! Be careful!” A name called out. It was Mysterion, signaling to look behind you. You could see him run towards you.

As you turned to face whatever he was warning you about, you were met with the burning sensation of a ray piercing itself through your arm. “Fuck!” You cursed, nearly tumbling over from the pain. You had to hold yourself up, though, and continue fighting.

The moment you were hunched over, Mysterion was right by your side to help you. As you seethed through the pain, rebuilding the strength to stand back up, he acted as your human shield.

Once you were alright, your injured arm held your ray gun up high, the other hoisting it up by the forearm. You two needed to get out of the center quick. Back to back with your ray guns out, you two made a beeline out of the heart of the camp shooting back at the dracs that sent a hail of lasers and bullets toward the two of you.

When you were merely out of their reach, you felt Mysterion lose balance and fall on you. Adrenaline kicked in and, despite the state of your arm, you were able to hold him up. This would all be great if it weren’t for the red you spotted soaking through the grey fabric of his clothes.

“Mysterion, are you okay?” You only got a groan in reply. “Answer me!” You yelled, shaking his body. He was limp, though. 

Only one thought had bore itself in your mind: you are not going to let him let go like this. He’d be ashamed of you, and you’d be ashamed of yourself.

You peeked from behind a rock you two were hiding behind, checking to see Toolshed, Coon, and Human Kite. They seemed alright, none of them sustaining any injury yet. You had to act fast right now.

It seemed like the adrenaline in your body was the only thing keeping you alive since you mustered up the will to grab Mysterion and quickly get into the Trans AM, setting him in the back.

You took off the jacket around you and wrapped it tight against his torso to apply pressure. You shrugged his jacket off to wrap it around his leg for the same reason as well. You lifted the signature helmet he wore, giving him more air to breathe.

“Mysterion. You stay there, okay? I’m gonna tell Human Kite and the others to go.” You said, doubtful that he could hear you. You shut the door, though, and ran back to the field to find the rest of your group.

You spotted Human Kite, cornered by a bunch of Dracs. He looked like he knew he was fucked. Luckily, since you were from a distance, you were able to shoot a few of the dracs from behind. An easiness was now settling on the redhead’s face. You helped him fend off the rest of the Dracs there. After which, you leaned in close to him to whisper something.

“Kite,” you said, pants breaking up your speech.

“Yeah?” 

“Mysterion’s in the Trans. He got shot in the chest, side, and thigh.”

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, worry evident in his eyes.

“We gotta either dust these guys right now or book it.”

“Well,” he scanned the area, checking how many more Dracs are left. “There’s not that much left. You think we can take them down?”

“If you wanna go through it, we have to do it as fast as we can, or else we got a dead body on our hands.”

“I know.” He nodded, running to Toolshed and Coon to give them the news, you following behind. In an instant, they all started to shoot, and you did too. It didn’t long before each and every single one of them was ghosted.

Human Kite was in the driver’s, the Coon called shotgun, and so you and Toolshed were left to take care of Mysterion as the Coon asked the Chef for places with medical supplies.

All you could hear was your own heartbeat. Coon’s incessant yelling on the phone, the sputtering engine of the Trans Am, worried back and forths between Toolshed and Human Kite, and the faint sound of the radio in the back were white noise to your ears. All you stop and think about right now was Mysterion.

​The sole reason why Mysterion continued to keep on going was his sister, Karen, who still lived in Battery City. The two were separated after the Fires a few years ago. Ever since then, it's been his sole mission to find her and protect her. God knows if she’s been drugged by Better Living Industries or not, but he was sure of one thing: he was not going to BL/ind make an orphan out of her.

What about you? Did you have any reason to fight? You were stripped of your freedom and innocence at a young age, sure, but so was everyone else. You had no one and nothing in particular to live for, so really you didn’t have any reason to truly fight at first. 

However, when you learned why Mysterion worked relentlessly hard to take down BLi, you couldn’t help but admire him. From the day when you learned about his motivations, you made it your sole duty to protect him. Though you had nothing distinctly notable enough to live for, Mysterion did, and so you found your new purpose. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize how your worries consumed you. Guilt was not a word big enough to describe the insurmountable feeling of responsibility you had bubbling in your gut. You were embarrassed, ashamed to your very core for your carelessness and stupidity. Had you kept a better eye on Mysterion, he wouldn’t be halfway through Death’s front garden by now.

Once you five had arrived in the diner, Toolshed and Coon immediately rushed Mysterion to a small booth to patch him up. Human Kite, on the other hand, assisted the hole in your arm in the comfort of your room.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” He mused, fixing up the burn hole that pierced your arm. You were lucky that it didn’t go through the bone, only piercing your skin, flesh, and muscle.

Human Kite knew about the two of you—or at least had an idea. Neither of you hadn’t told anyone about anything, but you were sure it would be easy to spot if they looked close enough.

Were you two open about your ‘relationship’? Yes. Were you two obvious about it? No, but you’re certain he would be if he could. You two were always preoccupied with taking down dracs and scheming ways to overthrow BL/ind, so you barely had the time for each other. 

You could only love him in unpredictable, small doses, even if you wanted more than that. That made loving difficult, especially when you desperately longed for any sense of stability in your life. 

“Oh, don’t small talk me like that.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“It’s true, though, right?” He hummed, tongue sticking out as he redirected his focus on your arm.

“Yeah.”

“Are you two together anyways?”

“No.” You answered hesitantly, a vague image of a pout on your lips.

“Drifters?”

“You know, you’re really chatty right now. Wonder where that came from.” Despite your rather harsh reply, you did appreciate the conversation you were having with Human Kite. It served as a good distraction for the burning cold sensation that was the after sting of the laser.

Human Kite didn’t seem to take your comment to heart, though. “You’re not denying it, though.” 

“So? I’m not confirming it either.”

“Tell him that you like him.” You sucked in a breath, partially out of your discontentment with the idea and partially because of the raw sensation of a needle and thread being woven into your flesh.

“Kite, he’s literally nearing his deathbed as we’re talking. I don’t think I can tell him that I like him currently.” You humorously replied, a dry look on your face as you spoke.

He shrugged. “If he makes it, then.” 

“When he makes it.” You corrected.

“You’re so confusing.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“Thank you. I pride myself on it.”

———

The next day passes by and Human Kite, Toolshed, and Coon had gone to the Kitchen, where Chef’s base resided, and also did his radio concerts. They went to report the outcome of yesterday’s mission and receive their next one. After that, they would pass by Timmy Chow Mein to grab some more power pups and extra supplies.

That meant you were left alone with the recovering body of Mysterion, which was resting on the booth where he was fixed up the previous day. All you had to do was check if he was breathing and alive—which he was.

However, he’s been unconscious since yesterday, so even if blood pumped through his veins, it still meant he was under unstable conditions. You watched over his rather frail and pale body, shirtless and bandages wrapped everywhere.

His poor state made you worried. It didn’t seem like you guys would be getting out of your current predicament any time soon. Hell, you’ve been going at it for years now, the term ‘soon’ just seemed like a hopeless promise to you.

The dead can be many things. The dead can win, find peace, and be freed from the chains that have held them down, but the one thing they’ll never be are survivors.

But, of course, eventually, most things will come to an end, which meant BL/ind would face its inevitable downfall. The question is if you’ll be able to watch and savor the souls (or lack thereof) crashing down.

Maybe Kyle was right. Maybe you should tell him about your feelings.

What do you have to lose? Definitely your god-knows-what of a relationship with Mysterion, but it’s not like you were going to ember bridge your gang. That would be reckless, and even then you were sure neither of you wanted to see the other leave the troupe and get themselves ghosted (or worse, drugged by BL/ind).

You sat on the seat across the booth, watching Mysterion's features shine from the sun that hit his face, adorning his features further. Mindlessly, you grazed your fingers on his exposed skin. You wondered just when he’ll wake up. 

The question of yours did not take too long to be answered.

You heard a groan spill out of his lips, words you couldn’t make out being mumbled by him. Like instinct, you bolted up from your hunch-over position and observed him with a deeper focus in your eyes. “...Mysterion? Are you awake?”

“KN…” He murmured, eyes slowly opening and meeting yours.

“Mysterion!” You called out, leaping across the table.

“Ugh, what happened?” His voice was beyond coarse because of his lack of use.

You stood up and headed to the dirty kitchen behind the counter to grab a glass of water for him. “Things went Costa Rica during the clap, and you almost died—that’s what happened!”

“Mmf, thank you.” He said, finishing the drink in an instant, setting the glass on the table with a light slam. A heave exited his lips as he collected his breaths.

You knew he just woke up but had he no regard for himself? You’ve just broken the news to him that he almost got ghosted, completely dusted. He seemed to not care at all.

“Of course.” You huffed, brushing off your thoughts and rolling your eyes. You’ll probably get back to that later—when he’s more clearheaded.

“How long was I out for?” 

“A whole day.” You sighed, looking at him as your head rested on your arm propped on the table. ”The gang is out to report the mission to Chef and grab some stuff at Timmy’s.”

“Alright.” He nodded.

“You shouldn’t have come back to save me.” You spoke out mindlessly, voice barely above a whisper. You meant it in a way that you regret what you’d caused because of your recklessness.

He might have taken that differently, though. “I shouldn’t have? KN, if I helped Kite and the others out instead of you, you would be totally dusted right now. That’s for sure.”

He was right, though. You couldn’t get mad at that. You were all alone back there, and the cloud of dracs would’ve ganged up on you. With Mysterion, less damage was observed, yet the injuries all targeted him.

Then again, his life mattered more than yours. He had Karen. You had no one.

“Mysterion, you matter more in the grand scheme of things. You have a family to find. I got fucking nothing!”

“Don’t say that, KN. You’re worth a lot more than you think.” He fumed, but his voice did not raise. Not at all. The look of anger on his face was clear, though.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath before continuing.  ”I know I matter or whatever, but you have something worth fighting for.”

“You’re worth fighting for, though.” He assured, taking both of his hands to hold your empty one.

You snapped. Words fell out of your mouth quicker than you could process the rate of them going. “And you are too! What you want is so much larger than who I’ll ever be. That’s why I’ve been hellbent on saving you!”

“You have?” He mouthed, horror melting on his face.

Hesitant to answer, you paused, body frozen. “Yeah...”

“I’m sure that’s not just why.” He continued—the terror once present now turning into an upset one.

Strike you confused since you didn’t know or understand what he was talking about. “The fuck you mean?”

“Do you like me?”

“Duh.” You bluntly answered, furrowing your brows.

“No, you don’t get it. Do you like like me?”

“Mysterion, you sound childish.”

“Answer my question.” He demanded, his eyes dark and piercing through you.

Well, you were backed into a corner now.

In the end, though, you had already thought about telling him. This was bound to be found out about at some point. Kite likely knew already, so what’s holding you back from telling Mysterion?

Fear, that is—even if it dissolved into nothing when you were with him.

You took a deep breath before you answer. “Yeah. I am in love with you.

“And so what?” You scoffed, finally straightening your posture to shoot him a look of scornfulness. ”I know I shouldn’t want you this way, especially if our lives are on the line every second of the day, but I can’t help it. I’m so hopelessly in love with you that I’m willing to sacrifice myself to get hurt in the process just so I can hold you for longer.

At this point, even if you weren’t even thinking of what you were saying, you couldn’t care less. You were finally able to set the record straight and tell him the truth. Although, you began to falter and crumble with every word you spoke. 

“I want time to fast forward to a future where we’re together, and everything is normal. I can’t, though. That’s why I settle for second best—which is protecting you and waiting for that day to come.

“Is that what you wanted to hear?” You spat.

You couldn’t read his reaction. You were helpless at that very moment. “Sugar…” He mumbled. 

You didn’t want him to call you that name for the longest time. You didn’t deserve a name that praised you to be sweet, to be caring because, when all is said and done, you were a monster.

You only went with the name because he seemed to love calling you that, and you loved him too dearly to stop him from doing so.

Yet, despite the head you held high, you started to crumble. Your words felt selfish and how was he supposed to take you seriously? You’re nothing more than a means to an end. What if he found your confession embarrassing? What if he didn’t want to be with you anymore?

“Shit, I know it’s stupid, but I ju-”

You were cut off by the sensation of Mysterion’s lips on yours.

This was nothing new, though. You two kissed all the time, so why did this one feel so different?

Maybe it was the way it felt like it lasted forever. Maybe it was how your arms were all over each other—clinging desperately as if the other would disappear into thin air if one of you let go. Maybe it was because you could read the desperation and longing on his tongue. The petals of his lips on yours felt like a confession that did not need any words—something holy.

Whatever it was, you didn’t want this to end.

In your mind, the moment you two pulled away from each other with breaths crooked and awry, you knew one thing in that instant: you must’ve been breathing him.

“Mysterion…” You mumbled, forehead beading with sweat pressing against his.

“Kenny. It’s Kenny. Say my name. You already know it’s the real one.”

“Kenny,” you breathed, his name feeling like a cool breeze on your tongue. It’s been years since you’ve last spoken his name.

You felt his lips form into a smile on yours. “YN, YN, YN.” He chanted your name like it was his favorite hymn.

Everything felt like it was in its right place, even for a split moment. It felt that a fraction of a second was all you needed to know everything was alright. To know that everything is, in fact, here. You and Kenny against the world.

“What is it?”

Pulling apart from each other’s bodies, his hands found themselves resting on the space of your shoulders. “I need, no, want you. I’ve wanted you for so fucking long now.”

“Why are you only telling me this right now?” You cooed.

“I was terrified,” he professed. ”I didn’t know if you wanted me as much as I did with you. That’s why I never pursued anything with you. I settled to be needed. It felt more comfortable that way anyway

“Besides, romance isn’t for the zones. If I was with you, my fear of losing you would be too amplified that might even kill me.”

With every word he spoke, you could feel your heart break a little more. He didn’t deserve to think this way, and you didn't deserve him to believe in you like this.

“At least you don’t have to be scared anymore.” You said reassuringly, taking the sides of his face into your hands, thumb caressing his cheek. ”I’ll be scared with you. Two negatives is a positive, right? We’ll find a way to work this out.”

“Please hold my hand as we work things through. Please,” he paused, hesitant to continue his next words. “Be with me.”

You nodded, finding your hand intertwined with his as you laid a soft kiss on it. “For as long as time allows us.”

(You thought to yourself, ‘Perhaps I’m a romantic as well.’)

[utapri-translations-uuuu]

Dreaming of OZ - Synopsis, Characters & Glossary

Translator's notes can be found throughout the text and are marked with an asterisk.

Do not retranslate/repost without permission.

Everyone has the magic to make dreams come true

"Now, here is a story about two strangers, The Scarecrow, The Tin Woodman, and The Cowardly Lion.

The story of their future begins."

Synopsis of the story

Theo and Terry are boys who live in rural Kansas. They were bored with their mundane lives and felt life had lost its purpose.

Just as they were wishing they could escape from the monotonous gray days, they were caught up in a massive tornado and whisked away to the Land of Oz.

In order to return to Kansas, the two decide to visit the Wizard of Oz, who rules over the Emerald City.

Along the way they meet Scarecrow, Tin Woodman, and Lion, and embark on a journey to make *Theo and Terry's wishes come true……

[Note: there is no mention in the Japanese text about it being only Theo and Terry's wishes, in fact, each character has a wish.]

Characters

Eiji Otori as Theo

A kindhearted and quiet boy. He used to live in the city, but due to his family's circumstances, he was taken in by his aunt and uncle.

Nagi Mikado as Terry

A boy who lives in Kansas. He is Theo’s best and only friend. He’s tired of living in the country and longs for the city.

Van Kiryuin as Scarecrow

Built in a field in Munchkin Country. He wishes to have a brain that can think for itself to turn his life around.

Kira Sumeragi as Tin Woodman

Made entirely of tin, he has lost his heart. He was rusted and immobile until Theo helped him.

Yamato Hyuga as Lion

A cowardly lion. He struggles with the difference between his image and that of the "King of Beasts". He joins the journey in search of courage.

Eiichi Otori as Oz

A great wizard who reigns over the Emerald City. He *is rarely granted an audience, and his true identity is shrouded in mystery.

[Note: In my opinion, they meant: "He rarely grants an audience", according to the Japanese text.]

Shion Amakusa as Glinda

The Good Wizard of the South, Quadling Country. He possesses mighty magical powers and watches over the group's journey.

Glossary

Kansas

A state with a thriving cattle industry located in the center of the United States. It’s also known as part of “America’s Great Plains” because of its flat terrain.

Munchkin

A country where nature is abundant and everything you see is blue. The Wicked Witch of the East ruled over the area, but peace was restored when Theo accidentally defeated her.

Silver shoes

Magic shoes worn by the Wicked Witch of the East. Theo, having accidentally defeated the witch, accepts them as a reward and sets off on his journey.

Red poppy

It’s a dangerous flower with the power to make you drowsy when you inhale its fragrance, and if you continue to inhale it, you will remain permanently asleep.

Emerald City

The city where the Wizard of Oz resides, everything is emerald green. The view is beautiful but artificial, and the population looks busy at work.

Emerald green spectacles

It’s necessary to wear these spectacles when entering Emerald City to avoid getting blinded by its brightness.

Quadling

The country where Glinda, the Good Wizard of the South, resides. It is very prosperous and full of happiness, and here the buildings are painted bright red.

[witchyfashion]

Llewellyn's 2025 Witches' Spell-A-Day Almanac

A Spell a Day Keeps the Monotony at Bay

Cast yourself an exciting year one spell at a time with this collection of new workings, recipes, rituals, and meditations. Crafted with simplicity in mind, most bewitchments require only simple tools and ingredients, making them fun and accessible regardless of your experience. This year’s incantations are curated by renowned magical practitioners, such as A.C. Fisher Aldag, Kerri Connor, Monica Crosson, Kate Freuler, James Kambos, Amanda Lynn, Melanie Marquis, Sapphire Moonbeam, Melissa Tipton, Charlynn Walls, and Brandon Weston.

Whether you seek a daily dose of inspiration or prefer to search for specific spells with the included cross-reference table, Llewellyn’s 2025 Witches’ Spell-A-Day Almanac helps you magically address vital topics for an enjoyable and fulfilling life. It features enchantments for love, health, money, protection, home and garden, travel, and more. It also includes daily color and incense recommendations, moon signs and phases, a glossary of magical terms, traditions specific to each month, and space for notes.

https://amzn.to/4d4BtCC

[noahhawthorneauthor]

Arlo Rook has decided it’s time to move out of Garren Castle, home for orphans of all races, magical or not, at 100 years old.

It’s not the first time he’s left home, but a setback landed the Hedge Witch in the hospital a year ago, and subsequently back to square one. Now he's ready to strike out on his own, despite his friend’s worries he's not ready.

Thatch Phantom is an immortal, the last of his kind and perpetually bored. When he’s not closing interdimensional rifts and corralling trouble in the universe, he’s visiting his favorite city of all, Levena. No one remembers him, but he's made an everlasting impact on the city nonetheless.

Long ago, he set up an anonymous scavenger hunt for the starving village, providing them with a year’s worth of supplies. He upped the ante each year, providing less practical things, as the village had become a city and was wealthy beyond belief. Festivals are thrown in his honor to this day, or a version of him, that is.

Thatch has decided to throw a wild card into this year’s Game. Whoever discovers his true identity will win one wish of their choice, no restrictions. Aside from the obvious, such as no falling in love, murder or resurrection.

Arlo crashes into the mess of copper curls and bright eyes, who throws apothecary goods and his life into a chaotic mess. It certainly wasn’t the first they met, but Arlo doesn’t remember him. Thatch, however, never forgot the Witch with a familiar soulmark on his face.

What follows is a hilarious and wholesome series of events that teases the immortal with the one thing he wants most.

Someone to call home.

Phantom and Rook is available in ebook, audiobook, and print.

Author Bookstore

Books2Read Links

Amazon

Audible

Goodreads

Buy Direct

When you sign up for the Book Dragon tier on my Patreon, you get the Phantom and Rook ebook along with other cool benefits.

For those listening in audiobook, you can find the supplemental materials such as character guide and glossary on the Adventures in Levena page, along with more about the series.

[magnusmodig]

— The All-Fathers & . History of Asgard.

||. I'm thinking pretty long and hard about Asgard and my personal thoughts and headcanons about the culture and potential major events in Asgardian history, so I'm putting those thoughts officially together. As always, inspiration is taken from the marvel comics and norse mythology, though most are just myself filling in the blanks. All headcanons are subject to change, and shared with sister blog @mischiefmodig !

This is what my Thor will refer to as his planet and family's history when in conversations with other aliens, and with other MCU muses.

NOTE: If you are a duplicate Thor or Loki, please do not claim any idea written here as your own if it is not derived explicitly from canon. (Inspiration is fine but please link back to this post at least!) If you are an Asgardian character, yes, you can reference this timeline of events and broad strokes of history in your threads with me or mischiefmodig. Please do not reference this as canon.

Glossary:

Asgardian - A space-faring warrior race that hail from the dimension-planet Asgard, and the ruling populace of the Nine Realms.

Aesir - A sub-species of the Asgardian race uniquely limited to the royal family line, whose progenitor is Buri, the first King of Asgard, and All-Father of the Nine Realms.

Vanir - A sister race to the Asgardians who live in the realm of Vanaheim. The leader of the chief clan of the Vanir is Njörðr, the father of Frigga.

Magic - Synonymous with the scientific study of the natural world, and/or the highly advanced usage of science, including properties and theories. Includes both Sorcery and Dark Magic.

Sorcery - A branch of 'magic' that focuses solely on the natural world. Sorcery aims to utilize the natural elements and work within the limitations of the order of the universe. (e.g., you cannot use sorcery to raise the dead.) Can be taught.

Dark Magic - A branch of magic that aims to bend elements of the natural world to the user's will. This often results in a distortion of natural elements and overextending the limitations of the universe. (e.g., you can use dark magic to raise the dead.) Can be taught.

All-Force - The name of the cosmic, natural-born magic specific to the Aesir line. Each known Aesir has an affinity for a niche of magic that is personalized and specific to the user. Overuse of the All-Force demands a period of hibernation from its user called the All-Sleep. (This power may sometimes colloquially referred to by Asgardians with the naming convention of the current monarch. e.g., the Odin-Sleep, the Odin-Force.) Cannot be taught. (but can be briefly enchanted.)

A Foreword: Asgardians and the Sister Race.

A foreword: The race now known as 'Asgardian' and the race known as 'Vanir' once originated from the same planet. The race's original name has been lost to time.

The Vanir are virtually the same as Asgardians almost every way save for cultural and magical differences.

Due to the discrepency of space-time dilation and the differences between the planets (and galaxies of) Vanaheim and Asgard, there are technically also aging differences, but this is negated if a Vanir lives on Asgard. (Due to this discrepancy, Asgardians are, ironically, closer to the original species than the Vanir.)

The Vanir are more nomadic, have deep ties to sorcery (witches (aka seiðr), fates, etc.) and do not often dabble in technological advancement. This is especially true of and most strictly upheld towards Dark Magic.

"Witches" are commonly known as Völva/Vǫlva (f) and Seer (m) respectively and are great sorcerers, healers, and prophets of the Vanir clans. They are figures of great importance, and can be (but are not always) the leaders of the Vanir.

All-Father Buri and the Origins of Asgard.

Buri is born with exceptional power, and is the first Aesir known to history.

As a result of his leadership, strength and magical power, Buri gains a following and becomes leader of his people's clans.

Buri gifts Heimdall's ancestor with the gift of the All-Sight, which allows him to see across the many realms and keep watch for any threats to their people and their territories. This Ancestor was Buri's right hand man.

After a period of darkness and war, Buri defends his people and planet amidst a long standing feud with Ymir, the first King of Jotunheim. This would later be known as The Battle of the Gods during The Celestial Wars.

The Hidden Stronghold is built in defense of Asgard during The Celestial Wars.

After defeating the Frost Giants and assuming supremacy under his command, Buri begins the conquest of what would one day become the official territories of the Nine Realms. He establishes sovereignty over Midgard, Nidavellir, Vanaheim, and Jotunheim.

Buri uses the All-Force to manipulate light and the force of black holes, Buri creates a hidden pocket dimension out of Ginnungagap - a great chasm of deep space. Within that pocket dimension, Buri fortifies their home planet for all those who follow him to reside on. This planet, connected to Vanaheim and the rest of the conquered realms, becomes Asgard: the realm eternal, and the heart of the Nine Realms.

With Asgard in an unreachable position, Surtur gains strength enough to pose a threat to Vanaheim, Nidavellir, and the rest of the galaxy.

In an effort to establish a unified offensive, Asgard becomes allies with Alfheim and Svartalfheim, and is able to navigate a tenuous peace between the two elf realms, with Asgard acting as the two territories' supreme authority.

Buri discovers the various Waters of Sights, which are strictly guarded by the Rock Trolls who live in Nornheim/Urðarbrunnr.

After a five-year conflict known as the Troll Wars, Buri successfully establishes peace, and a reach in Nornheim.

Using the guidance of the Nornns, and the allegiance of the other realms, Muspelheim is conquered under Asgardian rule.

Those who would later become the Vanir distinguish themselves from Asgard by keeping strictly to Forn Siðr (the ancient ways). They are nonetheless in full alignment with their sister realm. (Eventually, the Vanir lose touch with most of their previous dwelling places, cities, temples, and some magics, becoming a nomadic, sorcery seeking race instead.)

Asgard and the Infinity Stones.

After establishing the Nine Realms and securing Asgard's position of power, Buri discovers and seeks out the Infinity Stones. This puts Buri in the same path as the Dark Elves of Svartalfheim, although the Dark Elves intentions with the Aether were unknown.

Borr, the first Prince of Asgard, is born.

Borr manifests the power of the great earth. (What is essentially earth-bending. His talents specifically create what is later known to be Gundershelm and the Glade of Crystals, as well as the nurturing the ash tree seen in the Hall of Knowledge, which was originally planted by Buri. The concept for the shield around the palace of Valaskaljalf is visually modeled after his power.)

Buri commissions the original draft of what would later be known as the Infinity Gauntlet from the Dwarves, although it goes mostly unused. A mock of the gauntlet is not forced until early into Borr's reign.

Malekith of the Dark Elves comes into power.

Buri hunts down and aims to retrieve various Infinity Stones. Notably: Space, Mind. He dies during battle while in pursuit and successful acquiring of the Space Stone.

Borr becomes the second King of Asgard, and All-Father of the Nine Realms. He continues the pursuit of the Infinity Stones in ode to his father's legacy, and is known as the Architect of Asgard.

Reign of All-Father Borr &. the Convergence.

Borr marries the sorceress Bestla.

Odin, the second Prince of Asgard is born.

Odin manifests powers of enchantments, specifically in the way of runes.

Various infinity stones are found, documented and studied, and lost again throughout this time by Borr and his followers.

During the pursuit of the Infinity Stones, Asgard instates itself as a peacekeeper of not only the Nine Realms, but beyond its intergalactic borders. It is a known and prominent power in what would later become Omnipotence City.

The Dark Elves begin to utilize the Reality Stone (whether they have always harbored it or recently reacquired it is unknown.)

The Dark Elf leader, Malekith, utilizes the Reality Stone - known as the Aether - to enact a war upon the realms in the hopes of extinguishing life across the universe to create a new world. This is known colloquially as The First Dark Elf Conflict.

Asgard engages with Svartalfheim in a series of long wars called the Aeon Wars.

Eventually, at the height of the Convergence (2988 B.C.) the Dark Elf Conflict of the Aeon Wars leads to the (near) complete destruction of the Dark Elves, and the extinction of all life on Svartalfheim (presumably caused by the Aether).

The Aether, under Asgardian protection, is locked and hidden away deep inside of Midgard under the express instruction of All-Father Borr.

Asgard experiences a cultural shift away from collecting the Stones. Instead, Asgardian sorcerers, scientists, researchers and historians pivot towards studying, preserving the history of, and ultimately separating the stones whilst keeping them all under Asgardian protection and/or supervision.

The Space Stone remains in the Asgardian vault, where it is under strict Valkyrie and Einherjar protection.

The construction of the Himinbjorg (the Bifrost bridge and observatory) begins to ensure safer and efficient travel between realms.

Heimdall is born.

Borr is grievously wounded in battle and dies of his wounds.

Odin prematurely assumes the throne as the third King of Asgard and All-Father of the Nine Realms.

Reign of Odin All-Father, and the Executioner of Worlds.

Heimdall is instated as the gatekeeper of Himingbjorg after full construction of the Bifrost is completed. With the Bifrost, Dark Magic is no longer necessary to travel in and outside of Asgard to the other realms.

Odin establishes a strict regime in which he suppresses various intergalactic conflict with races such as the Kree.

Omnipotence City is established as a gateway between all galactic powers, which Odin supports. Most notable are the Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse Pantheons, all of which dispute over a claim to planet Earth..

Odin and an unknown beau sire the first Princess of Asgard, Hela.

Hela shows exceptional talent with sorcery, similarly to her father. Odin pursues all knowledge, and encourages Hela's pursuit of all magic.

Hela uses her magic to create the Berserkers through the Berserker Staffs. Odin is is unaware of Hela's growing exploitation of Dark Magic.

Hela is named Crown Princess and Executioner to Odin All-Father.

Odin and Hela utilize their combined strengths to subjugate various skirmishes and oppositions in outskirt territories of the realms.

Asgardian territories expand to include extraneous planets such as planet Ria.

During a visit to Vanaheim in search of greater magical power, Odin meets Frigga, the daughter of the Vanir Seer, and falls in love with her during the beginning threshold of The Great Wars.

Various outside threats constitute in unrest throughout the realms. In secret, Hela begins her exploitation of Dark Magic to create a legion of Draugr, bastardizing the final resting places of Asgardian Einherjar.

Odin marries Frigga Njörðrdottir during a brief tide of peace.

Under the suggestion and guidance of Queen Frigga, Odin begins to pursue peace and diplomacy to end the Great Wars.

Hela successfully uses the Eternal Flames to raise her Draugr, and reveals her success to her father. With even greater power to fuel the mastery of Dark Magic that she possesses, Hela bids to utilize the Berserkers and the Draugr against King Laufey, when Jotunheim begins to seize more control. Odin forbids this process and condemns the bastardization of death. Hela refuses to engage with a diplomatic outcome.

When Hela threatens to seek the Infinity Stones (specifically: the Power Stone) as a fuel to her Draugr, Odin sends the Valkyrie are sent to stop her. All Valkyrie (save one) are slaughtered by Hela.

Odin is forced to use his runes, sorcery, (and possibly the Space Stone) to banish Hela to the Cave of Ages deep within Helheim/Niflheim.

Thor, the third prince of Asgard, is born.

Odin seals the Space Stone in Norway, under the protection of the norsemen.

The Frost Giants attempt to invade Midgard in a war of conquest and in pursuit of the Space Stone. Odin drives them back to Jotunheim with the Einherjar and Berserkers.

The last Great War continues until Odin breaks through Jotunheim defenses and finally defeats King Laufey. He loses an eye, the Casket of Eternal Winters is taken from the Frost Giants. Prince Loki is saved by Odin, who returns to Asgard.

Loki is announced as the second-born son of Odin All-Father.

Odin ushers in 1,000 years of peace across the Nine Realms.