zeldaphionasspellman-blog

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Huge apologies for my absence; life is a bit of a bitch at the minute but I'll hopefully be able to get some stuff written this weekend!

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life is insanely busy at the minute but I'm going to try to do some replies tonight!

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can we please talk about how gOOD zelda looks with that classic 40s outfit 

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magaprima

12. A graveyard.

The night was a dark one, the moon new, and storm cloud hid the stars from sight so that the two witches were enveloped in an….unearthly darkness. Fitting considering their task. A demon, one of the most vile pests that plagued The Pit, had taken Greendale as it’s new patch of victims, draining life from witch and mortal alike as it made it’s way through the town, ravaging the place…and ruining plans, disturbing Lilith’s precisely structured balance….

It had been stopped, of course; easily caught by the Mother of Demons herself, but it had taken a coven of at least four witches to bind the creature, one witch for each of the four elements. Sabrina and her Aunts had been a natural choice…though the entire family had not seemed to expect Mary Wardwell at their door, a demon caught in silver chains.

And now the damned thing needed to be buried….deep in the grave of the recently dead…amortal grave, the more…..mundane the better, to press the creature back into the earth and to stop it returning to Greendale…..or The Pit for that matter. An eternal punishment for it’s….problematic behaviour.

“Shouldn’t you know where the most….recent graves are?” Lilith asked as she and Zelda, the one Spellman family member who had insisted on joining, looked around the graveyard, bound demon in Lilith’s arms and a shovel in Zelda’s. “You do run a mortuary, don’t you? Mortal funerals for….mortal deaths? This is a mortal graveyard”

“This is is a mortal graveyard? I had no idea, thank you so much for enlightening me” she drawled, fixing Mary with a supercilious arch of the eyebrow. The woman was so bloody irritating without even trying, even more so when she seemed to be actively attempting to get on Zelda’s nerves. 

“And it may surprise you to learn that my primary occupation is not playing around in the dirt with a shovel” her voice a low hiss, it took some considerable restraint for Zelda to resist the temptation to see exactly what would happen if one hit another witch over the head with a shovel and somehow forgot to bury them in the Cain Pit. Of course, Sabrina’s whining after the fact would be so unbearable that it didn’t really seem worth it but perhaps she’d store the thought away for a rainy day. “You might not comprehend that some of us have more interesting things to think about but I don’t keep a mental note of which unimportant mortal is laying in which unimportant patch of dirt.” 

Determined to get this whole affair over as soon as possible, Zelda aggressively slammed her shovel down into a nearby patch of earth, one that hadn’t yet been laid with a tombstone. “Here,” she said brusquely, a sharp twist of her head beckoning Mary over. “And I suppose you’re expecting me to dig?”

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nonverbal starters prompts featuring nonverbal scenarios.

guide take them by the hand, arm, or shoulder to guide them.

shelter protect them.

shove push them.

loop drape an arm around their shoulders.

touch a gentle touch like rubbing their back, hugging them, holding their hand. 

kiss a kiss on the cheek, knuckles, forehead, in their hair.

palm smack them upside the head.

bed rest gently push them back down when they try getting out of bed.

aid help them with a task.

note pass a note to them.

cry wipe away their tears.

wash wipe something off their forehead, cheek, so on.

bandage patch them up when they get hurt.

heal take care of them when they get sick.

book silently read a story with them. 

carry pick them up. 

scrap punch them.

cherry find blood on them.

sit help them sit down.  

medical wake up in the hospital and find them holding their hand.

steer place a hand under their chin to make them look up. 

beat dance with them.

stare stare them down. 

off track get lost with them.

no shaking their head in disagreement. 

yes nodding their head in agreement.

rush tackle them to the ground.

open hold the door open for them.

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─ Gothic Windows in the Ruins of the Monastery at Oybin by Carl Gustav Carus (1789-1869)

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nonsexual acts of intimacy --- select from the following for my muse to respond to:

♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes ♕ : Holding hands ♖ : Having their hair washed by your muse ♗ : Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse’s lap. ♘ : Cuddling in a blanket fort ♙ : Sharing a bed ♚ : Head scratches ♛ : Sharing a dessert ♜ : Shoulder rubs ♝ : Reading a book together ♞ : Caring for each other while ill (specify which party is which) ♟ : Patching up a wound ♤ : Taking a bath together ♧ : Your muse playing with their hair ♡ : Accidentally falling asleep together ♢ : Forehead or cheek kisses ♠ : Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc. ♣ : Back scratches ♥ : Your muse crying about something ♦ : Slow dancing

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magaprima

“They are,” Lilith agreed frankly, “But I’ve never been one to…baulk at danger, or to flee from it. So I’m asking regardless. I know you’re…motivations for ever pairing yourself with the warlock are entirely….power motivated, a desire for a position that in the Church of Night seems only to be achieved for any witch by…attaching themselves to one warlock or another. And who higher than a High Priest?” There was no one higher in any individual coven than the priest who presided over it all, and any once close to that person would have power also by mere….association. Zelda had it by sibling connection when her brother, Edward, had ruled the Church, and now she intended to regain it by marriage.

“But I want to know if there’s something that matters more than a….ladder climbing match. Family is important you, anyone with half a brain cell can see that soon enough, but is anything else? Or is power your…sole motivation with everything?” Something Lilith could indeed understand, better than most in fact, but…sometimes…certain feelings, certain thoughts…experiences, could alter that, could place something…unexpected ahead of ambition itself. Lilith had known that…rarely, yes, but she had known it….and the question was, the true reason behind her dangerous hypothetical, was if Zelda had known it too, knew it now in fact.

“I see,” Lilith nodded, pressing her lips together in consideration at the witch’s answer. As the denizens of Hell had developed, as their numbers grew in size, Lilith had slowly come to be valued by so many demons, so many fallen angels, by her position only, what she could offer in ways of power, ability, her…proximity to the Dark Lord. Her character, her interests, her opinions were all simply…set to the side, unimportant, undervalued..of no value at all in fact. It had been a long time since anyone had ever appreciated for who she was and not what, the things her mind could offer not her power…a petty and perhaps even human wish…but one she never quite repressed entirely.

And now here it was again. A person she had connected with…grown to….like very much despite her best efforts, and the only thing that would see the other return those…sentiments, was Lilith’s power and not Lilith herself.

“Well, I am” She told the woman in a sudden…confession driven by emotion and a desire to prove the witch wrong, “I am more powerful than Blackwood. More important..too. If the Dark Lord didn’t…insist he be kept alive for now, I would have squashed him like the bug he is”

Bristling a little, Zelda leant back in her chair as she listened to Mary’s questions. Whether the witch was looking for an honest answer or just trying to needle her, Zelda wasn’t sure but either way, it was as though she could feel the judgement radiating from Mary. Foolish of her, perhaps, but she’d thought that if anyone understood her, this woman did. Evidently not. 

“Power matters to me because of the other things I value” she said crisply, almost hugging her own stomach with a posture that belied her clear, confident words. “It allows me to protect my family, the life I have built for myself and anything or anyone that might come along with it.” Still irritated, her face crinkled into a frown as Mary continued, making claims that seemed... impossible. 

Zelda just looked at her, trying her best to absorb exactly what Mary was saying, words that didn’t really seem to make sense until something finally clicked. Perhaps she had been a little tactless talking so openly with her... her official match about her marriage plans. It hadn’t even occurred to Zelda that it might affect Mary at all, let alone emotionally but maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe that was why the witch was... not boasting, her tone was too sincere for that, but talking so seriously about her own abilities. Certainly, from what Zelda knew of the other woman, she was at least Faustus’s equal where magical ability was concerned but as for being more important... Well, to the Spellman family, she was but that hadn’t seemed like the sort of importance Mary meant. The other witch wasn’t making a huge amount of sense but it was obvious that Zelda needed to smooth some ruffled feathers. Taking a deep breath, she internally shifted gears, leaning in a little and meeting Mary’s eyes. 

“You’re a very powerful witch, Mary, I have no doubt about that” she said in a low, soothing voice, the tip of her index finger gently stroking the inside of the other woman’s wrist. “You’re intelligent and talented and... charismatic,” Pausing, Zelda brushed some stray hair behind her right ear, a flicker of a smile crossing over her face when she continued. “I hope I haven’t caused you to believe that when I look at you I see anything other than a... truly marvellous witch, a marvellous woman.”

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weirdnightsisters

The hunger made it hard to think of much else other than drinking. It remained there, an everpresent thought in her mind, drowning out any concerns about what exactly had happened to her.

Zelda removed her jacket and held out her arms, offering her veins. Dorcas licked her lips, eyeing both of the woman’s arms for a second before taking hold of her right arm, pulling it close to her to sink her fangs. (Since when did she have fangs? It didn’t matter, all the better to get that sweet sustinance) A quiet groan slipped frm her lips as she got that rich taste on her tongue once more.

Zelda sighed, settling herself a little more comfortably on the edge of the bed as Dorcas began to drink again. Having someone feed from her didn’t feel anywhere near as wonderful as feeding itself but it was still rather nice, almost soothing. It wasn’t something that happened very often anymore; her own family were perfectly capable of finding their own food and it was a little too intimate a ritual for her to comfortably undertake with the many members of the local coven. Zelda hadn’t had fresh meat (so to speak) under her roof in years but perhaps it wasn’t such a disaster after all. 

“Good girl” she said approvingly, watching Dorcas’s obvious hunger with an evaluating eye. A lack of appetite in a fledgling was fatal; some of them had no desire to feed, they just let themselves wither and die, and that was always such a nuisance. But a bright, hungry, active young thing that she could take under her wing... that was a situation with undeniable potential.

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7. A jail

Beyond irritated, Zelda tossed her hair over her shoulder, glaring at the woman sitting next to her hard enough to burn smoking holes into her skull. She couldn’t remember ever being this angry before in her life; her surroundings were excessively disgusting, the company was less than desirable and, worst of all, it wasn’t even her fault. 

“This is entirely your responsibility” she hissed viciously at Mary Wardwell, giving the other witch a little shove as she spoke. And it was. Well, mostly. Perhaps Zelda had agreed a little too readily when the woman had suggested breaking into Greendale’s Catholic Church under the cover of darkness. It had seemed perfectly necessary; rectifying Sabrina’s latest mistake required a copy of the False God’s Latin Bible, something that Zelda was obviously not going to be able to pinch from the Academy’s library. So, before it had all gone disastrously wrong, before the appearance of a decrepit priest and two bumbling policemen, Mary’s plan had merely seemed like the best course of action to help Sabrina...

And, although she wouldn’t admit it even under threat of being burnt at the stake, there was a small part of Zelda that was intrigued by Mary Wardwell, almost... eager to get to know the witch a little further, to see how she behaved in these unusual circumstances. If she hadn’t followed her stupid, selfish impulse, she wouldn’t be in this heinous situation. But it had been all Mary’s idea in the first place and Zelda categorically refused to take the blame. “I very much hope you have a plan to get us out of here.”

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flyingupward

ZELDA SPELLMAN‌: ( zeldaphionasspellman )

      raphael sighed. if ANYONE knew she were here…she was surprised no one had swept down to intervene on her father’s behalf. then again, he had always been insistent that beings had free will.

      she was UNSURE of how to break this news to zelda, or any human for that matter. but, she supposed, if she had to do it, a witch was better than a mortal. she took a deep breath, then another. ❝ a few months ago…when my…when LUCIFER walked the earth, i assume he told you about sabrina’s…unique nature ? ❞ raphael knew this had occurred, of course, but it was as good a place to start as any. ❝ tell me, sister spellman, does your satanic bible make any mention of the NEPHILIM or the elioud ? or did my dear brother leave that chapter out of his history ? ❞

Getting more and more confused by the second, every word that this stranger spoke prompted a dozen new questions Zelda wanted to ask her. Trying to sort through the buzzing mess of worries and queries that were bouncing around her head, she clung onto the woman’s question like a limpet, an anchor in the sea of confusion.

“Her nature... yes” Zelda drew herself up protectively, hand anxiously fisting in the fabric of her dress. “And what of it?” She hadn’t known what to expect but questions about Sabrina’s... peculiar heritage had decidedly not been it and were undoubtedly not a sign of anything positive.

The furrows in Zelda’s already-crinkled brow deepened when her visitor continued. Neither thing she mentioned was in the Satanic Bible, as a matter of fact, but they rang a bell... perhaps she’d come across them in her study of the False God’s mythologies. Staying silent, unwilling to give anything away, Zelda merely tapped her foot on the hard wooden floor and waited for the woman to continue with narrowed eyes. 

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🍸 {from Faustus}

🍸 : your muse offering mine an alcoholic drink 

A little startled, Zelda quickly covered her surprise with a smile as the High Priest wordlessly handed her a generous measure of whiskey. She took a steady sip, searching his impassive face for some indicator of his mood. It wasn't uncommon for him to summon her to his office at the end of the day but usually he at least hinted at the reason for it, whether it was for a Sabrina-related issue, an intriguing theological discussion or... something else.

"A difficult day, your Excellency?" Zelda asked quietly, swilling the remains of the drink around her glass. Perhaps he was in need of a little stress relief. That was fine with her, as long as a Spellman hadn't been the cause of the stress.

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Zelda Spellman in Chilling Adventures of Sabrina: 1x01, Chapter One: October Country

You are a daughter of the Church of Night. Your father was a High Priest. You will be baptised under a blood moon, as we were, as all the Spellmans before you were, as all your children will be and that, niece, is final.

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Send my muse an emoji and they will react to ...

💋‍ : your muse kissing mine on cheek 💏 : your muse kissing mine on lips 👊 : your muse punching mine 👏 : your muse hugging mine 👋 : your muse slapping mine’s ass 👙 : seeing your muse in underwear ✈️ : seeing your muse in somewhere they didn’t expect to see 😭 : seeing your muse crying 👻 : seeing your muse scared 🌙 : seeing your muse outside alone during nighttime 💤 : your muse coming on my muse’s bed during night 

🍴 : your muse making mine a breakfast 

🌃 : your muse knocking on my muse’s door late 🍸 : your muse offering mine an alcoholic drink 

☔️ : your muse offering to share an umbrella with mine on a rainy day