#Anyways thanks so so much for the scry

[imtherainbownow]

the stars have guided me to you, fin. you must be stupefied to be in the illustrious presence of the greatest astrologer in all of teyvat. pick your jaw up for the floor and give me your hand. i’ll give you a reading of your fate purer than your eyes can see that will change the trajectory of your life forever. shall we begin, or will you continue to gawp?

you are a sagittarius, and freminet is a libra, a very social pair of friends, wouldn’t you think? your positive energy is infectious and draws attention from others, while his natural charm catches even the most unpleasant people off guard. together, you know how to turn frowns upside down and get a party started—if he were not shy, that is. air and fire signs get along very well, but beware, for he might wound your convictions, and you might find him having too much control over your friendship. take the time to articulate your concerns and make it clear how you are hurting each other. that will strengthen your bonds.

now to the next part of your reading, spring. i can see your thoughts, and they go to peaches almost immediately, the sweetest kind with juice that dribbles down your chin. that could be an accurate representation of your friendship, easily bruised but sweet and satisfying at the same time. when you think of warmth, it’s natural to feel all warm inside when you’re close to someone you admire and treasure. when you think of dancing in the rain, a light drizzle didn’t hurt anyone, and waltzing with your best friend, making big splashes as you jump in puddles, that is a testament to the wildness of youth.

him? he thinks about winter in snezhnaya and how much it differs from his homeland. though he’s never been there a lot, the climate sends chills down his spine, unlike the season of spring. doodles in the sand after you go diving into the sea with him, water dripping from your clothes as you draw figures of the creatures you saw or each other. the games you would play, sometimes longing to spend time with one another till midnight, though he could never stay that long. his fight or flight nature, how he tunes out the rest of the world by wearing his diving helmet, how he thinks of submerging his head in the water till it fills his ears so he cannot hear anything. you’re always there; the grip of your hand on his arm grounds him from the sea he is sinking in.

didn’t i say i’d impress you? freminet is someone who doesn’t open up easily to others; an introvert would stay in his shell rather than socialize, but you’re the first step in coaxing him to come out. appreciate your friends, for they are the ones who will be there whenever and wherever.

~ B

!!!!!!!!!

Please excuse my language B, but hoooooly shit!! The cycle continues on. My friend coaxed me out of my own shell. I’d do the same to Fremi. Read like I’m an open book.

May the wind guide you and the rest of the Hexenzirkl B, my friends and wish you well, and that the words of my pages follow you to great heights!

[bitethedevil]

I know the contents of Raph’s diary have been discussed but have you touched on how it takes literally no skill to pickpocket his journals off of him? I mean it’s maybe the only 0 skill check I’ve seen in the game. He wants us to know everything I swear it. Also if you pickpocket him he doesn’t turn around and call it out like other vendors do.

The Devil You Know

I didn’t know that but that is super interesting and it’s going to prompt me to yap about something I’ve been thinking about a lot. This man is so damn upfront about everything. His line “What’s better than a devil you don’t know? A devil you do” is literally his whole character. He doesn’t make a fuss about us pickpocketing him and that doesn’t surprise me. The scrying orb in at the Devil’s Fee where the narrator comments if Raphael can see us? He can. He literally lets us see him by intentionally failing a wisdom check.

I’m convinced that Raphael knows exactly what he is up against from the very beginning: The Emperor. Raphael plans ahead. He plans so far ahead that I’ll argue he already knows that his competition will be the Emperor and what he offers. Raph knows about it before we even do and there are a couple of clues to it. One is in Last Light Inn where he says:

“And yet, I have this picture in my head of you tossing and turning in the middle of the night…thinking strange things, dreaming strange dreams…and there’s this little voice inside of you asking ‘Is this my will? Or is it the worm’s?’. But you have no answer and no way of knowing. The good thing is though, there’s only one little voice you really should be listening to: mine.”

He’s not talking about the Urge because I am 90% sure that Tav’s get this dialogue too. He is talking about the Emperor (which we are still unaware of at this point). He is also already grooming us to not trust that ‘little voice’, especially with the way he mentions if this is ‘your will or the worm’s’ and the way he says: ‘you have no answer and no way of knowing’. He’s basically saying that the voice is keeping us in the dark on purpose and alluding that it might be making us do things against our will.

Again, with the line: ‘What’s better than a devil you don’t know? A devil you do.’. Raphael knows he’s up against the Emperor, and he knows that since the Emperor is a mindflayer, there is no way in the Nine Hells that he will be upfront with us from the beginning. Raphael plays his cards completely opposite in response to this.

Raph does not fuck around in the least. It’s ‘Hi, welcome to my house in Avernus, oh yeah btw I’m a devil *poof*’. He is upfront from the very beginning. Does Raphael also manipulate us? Oh for sure, but it’s nothing that you can’t technically figure out if you are a bit perceptive and he’s even upfront about that.

I’ve talked about the lanceboard scene before. If you let Mol win, he says to us: ‘She won. She has a taste for it now. She’ll be the one who comes to me.’.  If she loses, he’ll point out that she is lost, and her desperation will lead her back to him anyway. He literally explains how his deals work. Raphael then does the exact same thing to us by giving us an easy deal (that he overhypes a lot) with killing Yurgir. By dealing with him successfully once, we’ve ‘won’ and we’ll be more inclined to go to him again. If we don’t fulfill his deal, he knows that desperation might make us return to him anyway.

That man does not fuck around. The cards are on the table. I know that some of these things, like the pick-pocketing thing might also be due to storytelling, but even from a narrative point of view, he's very much presented as 'the devil you know' and I find that super interesting.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Zomboni

Debut: Plants vs. Zombies

Plants vs. Zombies is such a silly game. Silly is baked into its very code. And I love that! You know me! I live under rotting wood, eating silly and breaking it down into nutrient-rich soil! But I think Zomboni has the honor of being the silliest thing in this already-silly game!

There is no way Zomboni would exist if it weren't for the wordplay. So thank goodness for the wordplay! A zombie, on a Zamboni. Though, we are informed that it is actually "more closely related to a space ogre than a Zombie". What impeccable word choice! So it's not even actually a space ogre. Just some weird guy creature. Awesome

Zomboni drives an ice resurfacing machine, and I have no idea what the general public's knowledge level of these things is. Does the average person know the exist? I knew, but I played and hated playing hockey as a child so I got to watch the ice being resurfaced, which was the best part. Some guy who may or may not be tangentially related to space ogres will drive this machine around the ice rink, cutting down the surface and laying down fresh ice to make a nice and smooth surface, I think. Now, I may be using the generic term for this product, but commonly, there is one brand name that is used commonly, like Band-Aid or Q-Tip or Velcro, and for that we can thank...

Name: Frank J. Zamboni

Debut: Utah

Frank J. Zamboni! Hooray! What do you have to say, Frank?

Wow. So true, Frank. I'm sure this message is reaching its intended audience in this post. Anyway, ol' Ice Tank Frank made such an iconic machine that it is THE ice resurfacing machine in the public consciousness, and there is even a trademark for its iconic shape! That seems unnecessary but ok. Now, when the ghost of the Zamberino was scrying the mortal realm for references to his work in media, he came across parody in a funny video game, and OBVIOUSLY something had to be done about that!

And from then on, Zomboni's description was updated to reflect that it is NOT to be confused with a Zamboni® brand ice resurfacing machine, you silly billy, why would you think that? And they also plugged the Zamboni website in-game, so that the audience of, I must emphasize, a silly video game, would be more likely to buy an entire ice resurfacing machine, or at least its related merchandise. I really would think this would all be fine under parody law, but maybe it has to do with the shape trademark. Whatever. To the Zamboni company's credit, they have some incredible merchandise.

What a powerful item. With this, the course of a baby's life can be changed forever...

Zomboni with an O, I mean with two Os, approaches while creating a trail of freshly laid ice that cannot be planted on. The brand-ambiguous ice resurfacing machine is quite tough, but instant-kill plants are effective, as are Spikeweeds and Spikerocks, which will instantly pop its tires!

Zomboni is a considerable threat, instantly flattening any plant it reaches before its destruction, though the player should be pretty well-equipped to combat it, and the ice is laid on the right side of the screen, rather than the precious left side. Pretty manageable! But Zomboni is only the beginning, and as much delight and intrigue as I have gleaned from Zomboni's existence, it's what FOLLOWS Zomboni that is, in fact, my favorite zombie(s) in the game.

If Zomboni is allowed to create an ice trail, it will be used by Zombie Bobsled Team! Yeah, Frank got a whole "name/debut" section and these guys just get a bolded name in a sentence. You never know what I'm gonna do next! Hee hee!

Zombie Bobsled Team is exactly what it sounds like! A team of zombies, in a bobsled! So that's four zombies, with a defensive vehicle that has to be destroyed before they can be harmed! Zomboni was already over-the-top silly, and then Zombie Bobsled Team goes even higher over that top. And it's a Big Top, where they keep all the clowns. There is not much else I can say about Zombie Bobsled Team, but it really speaks for itself!

For some reason there exists official art of "Mullet Zombie", the Zomboni driver without his vehicle and hat. And for an even somer reason, they put it on the box art for the DS version! PvZ1 is simply very strange when it comes to official key art. Messed up.

[trapdoornumberthree]

gamerrrrs would you like some dinky little pictures of your dragons done by someone who can't really draw dragons for pennies. i'm going to do a popup art shop of sorts to commit to that funny cow scry for my dusthide and i need examples

^ i drew her this is about the level of quality you can expect lol

largely pwyw, i'll take both treasure and/or gems [if you are kind enough, i'd also accept any of the actual items i'll be getting anyway for like. an actually well drawn chibi instead. not of dragons though i can do humans and furries just fine]

roughly 500 px canvas and please don't expect anything incredible lmao... i promise to draw your dragons silly but i don't promise to draw them well

i will try to include skins/apparel if applicable but if you'd like me to just omit them lmk ^-^

u can drop me a message here or on flightrising if you're interested EDIT: Woah! The community's been so kind to me and my funny little cow, I can't thank the folks that've helped out enough! Wagyu's genes should be all squared away now, but I'm having a lot of fun with my silly dragon doodles and I'll keep taking them until I get sick of it. [i was thinking about making it a more permanent lowkey offering on my profile page, rather than a full shop? just a sort of informal invitation to request a funny doodle like these. i'm not sure what a good pricetag to stick on that would be!]

Here's a few of the ones I've already done! EDIT x2: The rest of them are now done!

TY sooooooo much to everyone that was kind enough to send me a donation/art rq! I had a lot of fun working on these and it was a great little stretch for my comfort zone.

I'll be tentatively setting up an order form for these around the end of the month or so, and I'll make a new ad post about it whenever that happens! I'll *only* be taking them through my flight rising messages, however, so feel free to drop me a friend request or just lurk on my page if you'd like to keep an eye on me >;]

[scoops-aboy86]

The aftermath. I'm not sure how many more parts to this story there will be, but at least a couple.

Anyway, Eddie Munson lives, baby!

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 of the love spell no go au

Scrying isn’t something Eddie has delved into much but he knows a scrying plane when he sees one. The shallow water beneath his feet ripples out with every step, echoing out into infinity. He can hear hundreds of thousands of voices whispering just on the edge of hearing, too quiet to make out, and pinches the inside of his wrist to see if this is a bad dream he can simply wake up from. 

… Nope. 

There’s nothing to see and nowhere to go, but he tries. He picks a direction and walks for a long time. 

A very long time. Until—

“Eddie?”

He whips around, and a girl who may or may not have been there a minute ago regards him with big, tired eyes. Younger than him. Shaved head. 

“That’s me,” he replies warily. “Are you… the party’s Supergirl?” Dustin had said something about her losing her powers, but she must have found them again to be here. 

She smiles a little at that, a small but genuine thing. “I’m Eleven. You can call me El, or Jane.”

“El-or-Jane it is,” Eddie replies with a bow, and that one earns him a laugh. 

“You are funny,” she tells him. “I’m glad my friends in Hawkins had you to help them.”

When Eddie goes to protest that she has it backwards, they’d helped him, El informs him that his ripcord spell had killed Vecna. She’d been in his mindscape when the others’ attack on the dark wizard had begun, the red hell dissolving around her, putting her out of range while Eddie was casting. But Vecna, through his hive mind connection with the bats, had been front and center, and it had zapped him like a bug flying into a light bulb. Enough for whatever power had kept him alive through the ravages of interdimensional travel and decay and being set on fire to be snuffed out. 

El had hurt him, and his physical body had died of the burns from Robin and Steve’s Molotovs and bullets from Nancy’s sawed-off, but it was Eddie who struck the final blow. Otherwise, Vecna might have crashed through that window onto the front yard below and still gotten up again to slink off, lick his wounds, and continue his assault on the Right Side Up. 

“I think we use our powers very differently,” El tells him thoughtfully, and isn’t that just the understatement of the goddamn year. “I don’t understand what you did, or how, but… thank you.” 

Eddie is uncomfortable being thanked, when all he did was run and then pin all his hopes on one last-ditch effort. He jams his hands deep in his pockets and rocks back on his heels, sending out more ripples to nowhere. “Yeah, well… It’s been a hell of a week, all I want to do now is get some fucking sleep.”

El looks perplexed by this, then firm as she shakes her head and holds out her hand. “You have been asleep for long enough. I promised Steve I would bring you back.”

And, okay. Eddie isn’t really one for taking the hands of strange children (he’s in his twenties now, fifteen-ish is a child, shut up) and letting them lead him around, but he thinks he’d do just about anything for Steve. 

Seeing Eddie’s eyes flutter open sends a shock of electricity through Steve. He barely remembers to give El the tissue waiting in his hand before swooping in to scoop up one of Eddie’s with both of his, enveloping pale fingers while careful not to jostle the iv line connected to his wrist. “Eds? Eddie? You with us, man?”

And when those eyes settle on him immediately upon focusing, like Eddie had already known where to find him, Steve feels that zing again only stronger. 

“Mm,” Eddie croaks in agreement. 

Robin is at Steve’s elbow, already handing him the bowl of ice chips (all Eddie is allowed right now) so he can spoon a few pieces in through chapped lips. 

“Eddie,” Dustin says tearfully, and Mike and Will have to immediately restrain him from tackling the guy who just came out of a fucking coma in a relieved hug. 

Steve holds Eddie’s hand again while he sucks on the ice and Nancy goes to let hospital staff know that he’s awake. 

It’s a few more days until Eddie can stay awake long enough to really talk, and a few more after that before he starts remembering the answers to the questions he keeps asking. 

“Is Dustin okay?”

Broken leg, but it’ll heal. 

“What about Max?”

Two broken legs and two broken arms, but she’s already been discharged in casts and a wheelchair. She’s staying with the Sinclairs so she isn’t home alone while her mom’s at work. 

“Did we win?”

Vecna’s dead, the three gates closed, and the Upside Down sealed away for good. Plus, they didn’t lose anyone this time; Hopper is even back from the dead. So yeah, it’s a win. 

“Do people still want to kill me?”

Jason Carver had been arrested for assaulting Lucas, which had lost him a lot of standing with the town. (Not all of it though, so not nearly enough as far as Steve is concerned.) He’s now the lead suspect for the attempt on Max’s life, and it turns out that his only solid alibi for Chrissy and Fred’s murders had been Patrick. Eddie is still known as the local freak, but he’s at least no longer wanted for multiple murders. 

“Where’s Wayne?”

Sometimes Mr. Munson is there to take this one, but most times, like today, Steve has had to explain that he’s working a shift at the plant. But he knows that Eddie’s alive and innocent and going to be okay, and he’s already planning to visit again as soon as he clocks out. 

“It’s really over?”

Steve answers all of these, like he has before, and holds Eddie’s hand while he processes everything all over again like it’s the first time. It’s not Eddie’s fault; they’ve had him on a lot of pain meds. 

“… I’ve asked this before, haven’t I?”

That’s new. Steve nods, then closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. And lets it out, finally. “I am so goddamn mad at you. I told you not to be a hero. What the fuck about that did you not understand? And then you went and nearly died.”

The look Eddie gives him is the clearest it’s been all week, sad and unsettlingly resigned. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re—” Steve stops, presses his lips into a thin line, pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Sorry? That’s it?”

Eddie looks down at their still-joined hands like he doesn’t understand why Steve still wants to touch him. He feels so fragile and washed out against the white of the hospital bed and the pale hospital gown, a nasal cannula holding back his limp and unwashed curls where it hooks over his ears. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you’ll never do it again,” Steve replies, the words immediate and hot on his tongue. “Shouldn’t be too hard, it’s not like there are any more dark wizards or demon bats to chew half your skin off.”

He almost feels bad at how Eddie’s big eyes seem to get bigger, and definitely wetter at the corners. But he’s got his own bites, itching like crazy as they heal beneath the bandages hidden by his polo, and he’s been sitting in this hospital chair for what feels like forever while Eddie was in his coma. His back twinges when he moves, and he hasn’t been sleeping well, not even when Robin stays over. Everything feels uncomfortable and stressful and this idiot almost died and he can’t, absolutely cannot go through it again. Ever. 

“Steve, I… I won’t, I just… I was stupid and forgot about the vents. I wasn’t trying to be a hero, I just wanted to fix what I fucked up.”

“Well you are,” Steve manages to say, despite his throat feeling increasingly tight and his own eyes starting to feel hot. He wipes at them roughly. “A fucking hero, I mean. You ended it. Butthead,” he adds, giving Eddie’s hand a tight squeeze. 

That is what makes Eddie’s eyes spill over with a wet little sound sneaking out between his lips. “It was the ripcord spell. I ended everything. So… you’re mad, I get it, and if you don’t want to be friends anymore—”

“Of course I don’t want to be friends,” Steve interrupts. “I want to date you, you idiot. I told you that already.”

“But the love spell—”

“Fuck the love spell. Maybe it made me fall in love with you one time, but I fall for you all over again every time I see you, Eds. So when you’re healed up enough, I’m going to put you in a wheelchair and push you to the hospital cafeteria so we can have our first official date over the shittiest food in the known universe, and the only thing that’ll stop me in said universe is if you don’t want to.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, a wonderful hope going from spark to steady glow in his expression. “Are you going to let me finish a sentence on this date?”

Steve smirks, but behind the mask of confidence he has the same wonderful relief welling up in his chest and he’s not actually sure he’s hiding it well. “Play your cards right, and sure.”

He’s never seen a brighter smile than the one Eddie aims at him. And yeah, Eddie is frail and scarred and still connected to a worrying amount of beeping hospital equipment, but he’s also just beautiful. “Then I accept, big boy. It’s a date.”

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 10, part 11

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 62 The Dog Spa Murder Spree

1000 total likes!!!

Happy to announce that the Murdle cartoon will also be posted on AO3 now! :D I don't.... think that means anything to anyone but uh yeah!

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

PERSON: [over the phone] INSPECTOR IRRATINO!! IRRATINO: JESUS FU- Heeeeeelllo! PERSON: Here, at the luxury dog spa - someone TRIED to murder a dog! They didn’t manage, but I couldn’t see who it was… with Logico gone, you’re our only hope!

Irratino does a double take. A DOG?! This can’t wait. 

IRRATINO: I’m sorry, Logico!!

Good to know he has priorities. When he arrives, Mauve, Ivory, Dusty, and a cardboard stick figure have lost their own dogs.

MAUVE: OH. Irratino. You’re going to help me now, because I’ve lost my WOOKIE. IVORY: Arr-Ro? Where’s Arr-Ro?! DUSTY: [unhinged wailing] IRRATINO: WAIT WAIT stop everybody stop. Who are you? CARDBOARD FIGURE: Oh, me. I’m Grayscale, CPA. I work in marketing. IRRATINO: … GRAYSCALE: [slow zoom-in on nonexistent face, faint bloody screaming and grinding sounds] IRRATINO: …Cool. GRAYSCALE: I’m looking for my poodle, Phoebe.

Irratino not only has to solve this murder, he needs to find his friends’ dogs, a task they cannot do themselves for some reason. First, he scrys into a fluorescent bulb, very much damaging his eyes. But all he can see is Mauve casually collecting her tears in an emerald dog bowl.

IRRATINO: Um… MAUVE: [HIIIISSSSSS]

Director Dusty is equally miserable, crying on a small bed with a cat laying on top of him.

DUSTY: I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M GONNA DO WITHOUT RUFF-RUFF.  IRRATINO: Hey, they just got lost in the complex. We’re going to find them. DUSTY: I HOPE SO… THIS OLD CAT AIN’T GOT A SPECK OF RUFF-RUFF’S CHARM…

The cat suddenly yowls, sinking its claws into his bare stomach. He lets out an ear piercing shriek.

IVORY: Oh my GOD-UH! Everyone’s so fucking LOUD, they’ll scare away all the dogs, and I NEED my ARR-RO! I know how to get him back.

She brings out a GIANT bone out of hammerspace. 

IRRATINO: WAIT! YOU CAN’T DO THAT!

A whole pack of dogs swarms her, trampling her alive! 

GRAYSCALE: [attempt at enthusiasm] Phoebe, it’s you.

He reunites with her.

GRAYSCALE: You are my only friend.

This guy is making everyone uncomfortable. But Ruff-Ruff runs by to lick Dusty’s wounds, and Mauve is greeted by a squirming noodle dog that really looks like her in a weird way.

MAUVE: WOOKIEEEEE. [picks her up] MY WOOKIE IS HERE… HAHAHAHAHAH

Irratino looks at her and she hisses again. 

Ivory is on the ground, barely conscious. She is… a lot more injured than they initially thought. But a giant shadow looms over her, and breathes directly in her face… 

IVORY: [cough] Arr-Ro? 

She reaches out and caresses his face, and promptly dies.

EVERYONE: [scream] IVORY: [sits up] UGH!! You’re so, FUCKING LOUD!!

It’s good that everyone’s reunited with their dogs, but who did the near-murder? A voicemail from Logico!

LOGICO: Hey. Inspector. I just saw on the news that you broke into Drakonia yesterday. With all due respect, ARE YOU SERIOUS?! IT’S BEEN SO FUCKING LONG, HAVE YOU EVEN BEEN CHECKING YOUR PHONE?! WHY HAVEN’T YOU CALLED BACK?! Anyway, this reminds me of that Great Dane that Editor Ivory always used to bring to meetings. I don’t know why it reminds me of that, it just does. Must be some ‘esoteric’ significance. GET. BACK. TO ME. Please~ <3

Irratino doesn’t message back. But thank god he knows Logico’s alive. And he feels a little bad for forgetting him for a day to deal with dog murder attempts.

IRRATINO: Grayscale CPA! I knew you were too basic to just be a regular guy. You tried to kill a DOG! GRAYSCALE: Ok, you got me. I’ll make a deal with you. If you let me off with a warning, I’ll tell you where you can find a lead about Logico’s disappearance. IRRATINO: Sure.

Grayscale gives the goat lord a map. Irratino gives the gray man an arrest! He’s dragged away in handcuffs.

GRAYSCALE: But we had a deal. IRRATINO: [deep cowboy voice] I don’t negotiate with wannabe dog murderers. GRAYSCALE: I wasn’t even going to murder the dog. I just-

Nobody cares.

The end!

Hoping the cartoon can reach a wider audience on AO3, there seems to be a lot of Murdle fanfics there

And apologies for not reading much if any fanfiction myself. I feel like I'm obligated to, it's just I uh

I'm scared and I don't want to

(I'll read it if my friends made it lol)

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Ursula Pt 1

Queen Mary had accompanied here for Ursula’s imbuement. Taka was enjoying being able to share the workload with others, though he had concerns for how quickly she was taking to all of the magic, and he didn’t always explain the plans and why they had to do things in a certain order.  

Yuu trusted him, of course! She just wished that he would be more open about things.  

At the base of the statue the mirror shards melted down, sharp pains in her legs almost ignorable if she focused on the spiral shell earrings taking form.  

“Well, at least it matches my bracelet?” she asks. She’s wearing it as an anklet, but it’s the thought that matters.  

“She wanted to give her necklace, but we’ve no idea where it is.” Queen Mary said, checking over her as if she had injuries. “Some things got added onto the statues, simply too iconic to who we were for it to be missing, but she has no idea where her original nautilus shell is.”  

The walk back feels like slow breathing, struggling through water, until she breaches the air of Ramshackle. It’s the easiest place for her to breath, and she thanks Mary for her time. She is more patient in her lessons, but she knows she doesn’t push as much as Professor Taka unless it’s physical combat. She’s hesitant for the magical lessons and won’t open up either.  

“You are sure? Nothing wrong with waiting.” Mary says, stopping by her room. Yuu had requested that at least first meetings be private.  

“Yea, I’m not to worn down. I’ll just do a quick dive and then go to sleep, I promise!” She pushes up a smile, waiting until she goes down the hallway to let it drop a bit. She is excited! There is just so much happening at school, and with the coming winter, it gets harder to keep the heat inside Ramshackle. The amount of times Yuu has woken up shivering is a growing concern, but Taka can only click his tongue, doing what little he knows to do and just waiting to be solid enough to quick Crowley’s ass into gear.  

Ursula’s room is located further down, a window less room with soft lights from leftover holiday strands and a vanity from Octavinelle that is certainly considered out of style for it now. Large and gaudy, with cubbies and shelves everywhere where Yuu has placed small plants instead. On the walls themselves are skeletons and skulls of animals that Sam was having a sale on. Apparently, they are gifts from his friends, but he has so many now that he can’t keep them all? A strange gift, but it benefits Yuu at least.  

The cabinets are lined with storage for seeds and other things, as well as a large cauldron, courtesy of Deuce, that she attempted to use scrying from with limited success. The egg chair isn’t the same as Ursula’s hanging conch, but it’s cozy, covered in pillows and silks in silvers, lavenders and dark blues and blacks.  

Yuu takes a breath, sits in the vanity, and waits.  

The scrape of teeth across her neck almost breaks the connection, but she feels herself tugged forward on a current. She thinks it’s a current anyway 

“Come along dear, it’s rude to linger in doorways.” 

The voice itself is unexpectedly deep, but...nice. It reminds her of an aunt back home, bit of a diva but well meaning.  

Yuu slides inside, touching the small urchins, flowing seaweed, and other bits that she can’t even begin to name.  

“Not as lively as my last garden, but certainly more useful.” 

She looks almost exactly like her statue, but...more wild. Her eyes in particular, painted in deep blue and lavender, are clearly inhuman, the pupil slitted horizontally. Her mouth hides a row of sharp teeth, with the front two being the sharpest. Some type of evolutionary change? The rest of her is about the same though, large body more solid looking here, scales glittering down her chest and core, claws painted a cheery red, and a spiked crown around her short flowing hair.  

“It was temporary but it still counts in my eyes.” she says, “Now, come here, let me get a good look at you.”  

A tentacle reaches for her, and Yuu finally looks down.  

“What-”  

“Not to worry, not to worry!” Ursula says, spinning her around so that her own deep green and gold tentacles flutter like a dress. “You look splendid! Just need to practice is all. You’ll get the hang of it in no time.”  

She pulls her into the chair in front of the vanity, which is technically where she’s already sitting but not here?  

“My mind feels fuzzy.” Yuu mutters.  

“Do you not like this form? You are a cephalomer dear, you could change it if you wished.”  

Ursula's face morphs into something more masculine, a dark tentacle mustache growing in twirls and spins, her frame taking the extra weight of her chest and distributing it down to make her tentacles even thicker.  

“We can do that? I can do that?”  

She laughs, “My dear sweet child, this is what I do. To help poor souls like us become everything we were meant to be.”  

She taps Yuu’s chin, taking a closer look at the eyebags and overall fatigue. It will be a while before the child is anywhere close to being able to grant wishes, but she has potential.  

But right now, the child needs rest. Something deeper than the abyss, gentle as the waves. 

“We can approach all that later though. For now, let’s get you used to your body. Just some gentle swimming, and then I’ll get a better idea on your scrying.” She chuckles as she feels Yuu’s appendage wrap around hers, like a little child thrown about my waves. “My handsome darlings were my primary source, but I did just fine with my cauldron.”  

“I tried the cauldron, even with Professor Taka’s help, I couldn’t get it to work.” Yuu says, rising from the chair unsteadily.  

“Oh, darling, you didn’t have me.” she smiles, sharp toothed and confident.  

She could take this little soul and make it into a hurricane, she knows it. Just a little time and patience.  

[officialleehadan]

Deep Wound

Stone Kisses

+++

“I’ve never known a world that didn’t have him in it.”

Alivir held onto Tallinvar from behind as Dainea pressed close against his chest. Together, they held their lover steady against the horror they had just witnessed.

“You tried to save him,” Dainea said gently, although they all knew it wasn’t enough. Master Wishtain died as he lived, reaching for something he should never have attempted. Alivir himself couldn’t find it within his heart to be sorry the man was dead. Not after he learned the cause of the terrible scars on Tallinvar’s back, and in his mind.

He couldn’t spare much mercy for a man who tried to beat the defiance out of his son for the sake of power he was never meant to wield.

Tallinvar, however, was not taking it well.

At least half of it was shock, and that at least, Alivir shared, and so did Dainea. Two healers had already been by to check on them, and left potions for anxiety which did not seem to be helping very much. All the same, every little bit was more than before, and Alivir coaxed Tallinvar into drinking one of them, along with a little tea.

Now they were huddled up together, sharing an overlarge blanket and trying their best to come to terms with what they had seen.

“Children.”

It was Eikh. He sat on the edge of the bed in the healer’s halls and put a hand on Tallinvar’s shoulder, lined face set in a mask of sympathy.

“He was not much of a man, but he was your father,” he told Tallinvar with a stern, but gentle tone that promised an utter lack of judgement. “You can hate someone, and love them at the same time, and you can wish that they were better than what they were. No one here will judge you for mourning him.”

“I shouldn’t. I would have killed him myself,” Tallinvar said. He hadn’t wept, and Alivir didn’t think he would. Not for a while, anyway, but that was probably shock more than anything else. Not the healthiest option, but Alivir wasn’t exactly the best person for judging healthy mental choices. He was more than half-mad with his Sight. “I tried to kill him just yesterday.”

“He very much deserved the stabbing you gave him,” Eikh said kindly. He patted Tallinvar’s shoulder and then tucked the three of them in a little closer, before spreading a second blanket out and tucking that around them as well. Alivir offered him a small nod of thanks and received his own pat on the shoulder for it. “And the beating Nightshade gave him after, but you did not deserve to see him die that way. Let the healers help you. We have people here who know how to heal wounds of the mind, and of the heart.”

“Can they make me stop feeling like… this?”

“In time, yes. For now, have another of Nightshade’s potions, and sleep a little. You will not dream.”

Tallinvar was clearly not convinced, but he took the potion Eikh offered and drank it without hesitation. Alivir raised a brow when his lover abruptly went limp, completely asleep.

“That was not the same one they gave us before,” he said, and eased Tallinvar to the bed where he could sleep. “What happened after? We didn’t stay to see… anything.”

“You wouldn’t need to stay if you cared to Look,” Eikh pointed out, but he stroked Dainea’s hair out of her face and nudged her to settle down beside Tallinvar. “The monsters retreated, and there is no sign of the broodmother besides the marks she left. I have a difficult request of you.”

“Anything,” Alivir said, although he wasn’t sure what he could possibly do. His Sight was unreliable when it came to the monsters. He suspected it had to do with the anti-magic field down in the caves. Something about it made the monsters hard to look at too closely. “You need me to try and scry something?”

“Look for Master Wishtain.”

There was almost nothing Alivir wanted less, but it was probably the most important thing he could do, despite his own lack of inclination. Now he understood why Eikh put Tallinvar to sleep. He didn’t need to hear this, no matter what Alivir had to say.

If his father was alive, it would be almost worse than if the man was dead. If Master Wishtain somehow survived the monsters, there would need to be a rescue, and Tallinvar would insist on going with whoever went after him. That would go badly for everyone. There was no way Tallinvar could be rational where his father was concerned.

Hopefully it wouldn’t have to be Alivir to talk him down. Eikh would do a better job of it, and might even keep Tallinvar out of the caves.

Assuming Master Wishtain was still alive, which, in all honesty, Alivir hoped he wasn’t.

“I need something reflective,” he said reluctantly. No matter what he Saw, it was going to be unpleasant. “My bowl is back in our rooms.”

“I have a mirror,” Eikh said and supplied a small folding mirror like the noble ladies carried sometimes. “I thought you would prefer it to your scrying crystal.”

“I do.”

With his new control over his Sight, Alivir didn’t fear the mirror as he might have once, but it was still nerve-wracking to open himself to the pain of the visions that had swamped him for so many years.

This one was no less confusing than the rest, but at least it brought him answers.

There was little interpretation needed for the wash of images, all of bloodstained claws and stone, and then of a monster, smaller and newer than the others.

“He’s dead,” Alivir said when the images faded off his eyes and he could hand the mirror back. “Or close enough. Turned into a monster, like the rest of the mages they took.”

Eikh sighed. “He was a wretch, but no one deserves that fate.”

“He might,” Dainea said acidly and held Tallinvar closer. “We would have given him something faster, but it would have been as final.”

“Even so,” Eikh said, and stood. “Rest, children. Take care of him. This is one more wound on top of many. Strong as he is, this is not an easy blow to take and keep standing. He will need you both to continue onward, and this crisis is not yet finished.”

+++

Stone Kisses: (FULL COLLECTION)

Stone Kisses Volume 1

+

Stone Kisses V2: (For full collection, see V1)

Checking Outward

One Fallen (Subscriber Only!)

Deep Wound

Safe Bubble (New!)

+++

MASTERLIST

[polichinelle]

the raven cycle timeline

"trc takes place in the mid-2010s" "trc takes place in 2012" no it doesn't! it's pretty common knowledge that mstief isn't the most specific when it comes to timelines (an example is that she had to change ronan's birth date after readers pointed out that it didn't line up with the events of the book; another example is the pre-canon gansey & adam & ronan friendship timeline, which doesn't make sense at all if you think about it longer than a second), and she has said before that her editors are more or less the same.

what that means is that the raven cycle and the dreamer trilogy are kind of nebulously "present-time," and no matter what year you think it takes place in, some details are going to be inaccurate. but since i am a chronic nit-picker and i get very fussy about timelines, that didn't sit right with me! i needed to know the exact year. so on my last reread, i kept a look out for any mention of dates so that i might be able to pinpoint exactly when the raven cycle takes place.

and i think i might have the answer :)

all of my arguments come from the dream thieves.

firstly, adam's birthday. we know that his birthday is july 3rd:

we also know that he was missing for most of the previous day:

what happens then is that he falls asleep for an indeterminate amount of time ("Later he fell asleep sitting up on the end of that same sofa."), he and gansey drive back to henrietta, adam visits blue at fox way, and after scrying with persephone he falls asleep again for twenty-one hours, and during that twenty-one hours is when his birthday takes place.

for a while i assumed the "quietly turned eighteen" referred to midnight, but that actually doesn't make a lot of sense given the context of the previous day being saturday. both of our options (gansey and adam drive back the same evening they found adam; gansey and adam drive back the next morning, on sunday) leaves us with adam falling asleep on sunday. at some point during the next twenty-one hours he "turns eighteen."

the thing is, there is no convenient year where july 3rd falls on a monday (in the scenario where we assume that "quietly turned eighteen" refers to midnight on the day of his birthday). however, if we go with the idea that it is still sunday and it refers simply to his actual time of birth, we're left with a pretty good answer:

adam turns 18 on sunday, july 3rd, 2011.

i have another thing to kind of back this up.

if we assume niall wasn't lying about that, we have two (well... kind of) options:

i searched for earthquakes in northern england since niall was born in cumbria. however, in my opinion, the second one, on december 26th, can't really be counted, since it would mean niall was... 32 in 2011. a little young lol. but if he was born in 1970, he would be 40/41 at his time of death, which makes a lot of sense (it also makes sense he would be a leo). neither earthquakes are a 4.1, but whatever, maybe he just forgot the exact number. maybe he was being humble.

so... all of this to say that the events of the raven cycle probably happen during 2011, and thus the dreamer trilogy would take place in 2013. considering the references to fortnite and all, that doesn't make a lot of sense, but at least i can rest easy knowing that that's just because mstief didn't think about this stuff at all while writing it (hence nebulous "present-day" being the actual correct answer as to when the books are set).

for a while i actually thought trc took place in 2010 since the lynches go to church before kavinsky's party, which i assumed meant july fourth was on a sunday, but it's mentioned that they go for a "special" "holiday mass" and not regular mass. either way, 2011 works better with adam being missing on saturday.

anyway, all this to say that i think about timelines too much. thank you for reading if you've made it this far lol

[ceescedasticity]

Unforsaken, 11a

(All sections on tumblr)

(AO3, lagging behind but more polished)

[There's been an AO3 chapter I didn't link here, the fairy-tale one.]

If for some reason anyone was hoping for a desolate wasteland with cold-drakes everywhere north of the mountains, they are disappointed.

(Well actually they were kind of hoping to find an obvious place to demonstrate the Wizard's Clay. This will take some thought.)

There's pine forest on the lower slopes of the mountains, and the grasslands rolling northward are green where they aren't full of wildflowers. There are buzzing insects, birds and rabbits and foxes, and a herd of deer in the distance.

So there's food for any cold-drakes.

More importantly, there's plentiful forage for the oxen and horses. Which they were already confident of thanks to palantír scrying, but it's good it's still here.

They could do some more palantír scrying to locate good campsites with water sources, but mostly they send the kids younger set ahead scouting.

(They are various levels of qualified for scouting in this environment, but it's a good thing to learn, anyway.)

Two days past Gundabad, at the nightly conference Arwen asks if they've seen any sign of dragons. She is is glad to hear they haven't.

And they're well clear of Gundabad?

And they haven't seen any orcs or trolls around?

All right. Then she has to tell them something about those grey swans with the Geese.

This is so much worse than the hair thing.

****

Everyone reacts very well.

Celeborn does not — does not — lash out at Maglor or Celegorm. It's old news, and anyway leaving Eluréd and Elurín to die (or not) was the work of a few rogues. He believes that. Maedhros and Maglor wouldn't have hurt them without an attempt at hostage negotiation first. No doubt Celegorm inspired his retainers' behavior, but it wasn't even his fault, not directly, since he was dead at the time. (Although, as his fëa was obviously lingering— No, probably not.)

Celeborn also does not waste time asking questions like: "How are they swans? Was Elwing's transformation not because of Ulmo? Did Lúthien turn into a bird, or into anything under non-emergency circumstances? Could Dior have?"

Instead, he asks, "…Does this have something to do with Nimloth not answering the Call of Mandos?"

Turgon shrugs, awkwardly. "I don't know. I don't know if she ever told anyone anything about how that happened."

"I think it must have been," says Whiterot, who is acknowledging the gravity of the news by actually speaking to Celeborn. "And this is probably also related to how risk-averse she could be. She must have known they were here and been afraid of leading the Dark Lord to them."

(Turgon can't actually see how any of the risks Leafblight wouldn't take could have led to her leading the Dark Lord to her sons. Even if she somehow knew where they were, how is that even related to keeping a low profile generally?)

Celegorm tells Maglor he is going to go dig a hole in the ground that they can demonstrate the Wizard's Clay in, and vanishes into the night. Maglor doesn't stop him.

Time of death notwithstanding, Maglor does blame Celegorm for Eluréd and Elurín.

Even before the Nirnaeth, Celegorm and Curufin used some very violent rhetoric on the subject of Thingol, his people, and his house. (Maedhros figured it was substantially about the Silmaril and Lúthien humiliating them, but also about scapegoating someone else for Celebrimbor's rejection, Huan's rejection and death, the breakdown in relations with Nargothrond, and for that matter Finrod's death.)

After the Nirnaeth, all of them found their thoughts turning more often and more darkly towards Thingol and the Silmaril he held, though they didn't test the Girdle.

Celegorm combined that with a steady stream of vitriol towards Beren and Lúthien and their son — Men were barely more than beasts, and Ainur were hateful aliens with no place in Arda, and their joint spawn were monstrous. Maedhros hadn't been in any condition to shut him up. Maglor hadn't dared pick a fight and break the facade of unity that was holding their followers together.

(It had been one more thing to feel guilty about, with Elrond and Elros — that he hadn't said anything while Celegorm dismissed their entire family as not really people.)

Maglor doesn't think Celegorm really believed it even at the time — he hated them even more than he hated everything else and wanted a justification, like Caranthir coming up with reasons to despise Angrod and Aegnor besides 'Celegorm and Curufin like them more than me'. But Celegorm's retainers had believed in him the way they'd once believed in Oromë, and took his words as truth, and he should have watched his words accordingly.

Also, it was blatantly obvious that Eluréd and Elurín should be taken hostage. Leaving someone who didn't realize that with command of his retainers was very irresponsible.

(Celegorm realizes within five minutes of leaving camp that he forgot to grab a shovel, but was unwilling to go back and get one, so he grimly sets to digging a hole with his shitty orc sword.)

Khitwê and Risyind know about Eluréd and Elurín, more or less; Elladan covered them the summer before while trying to explain the roots of Celeborn's mood.

Obviously the Hirnedhrim have never heard of them before.

Neither has Gimli.

…Or Sharlinnu. She realizes she probably could have heard of them if she'd ever listened to orcs-who-know-they-were-Sindar arguing with orcs-who-know-they-were-Noldor rather than trying to get them to shut up, but that is not the case.

She is as helpful as she can be by not sharing the official Pelndoru version of why the Noldor and Sindar have a feud, which reliably outrages Eldar of any background:

The strife between different groups of Journey-Elves is an old blood feud started over a cursed jewel filled with the perilous light of the gods. Some of the Deep-Elves found it, were driven mad, then lost it. Then some of the Grey-Elves found it and kept it and were driven mad. Because they were all mad, they had a war and slew each other over who should keep the jewel. Because the Deep-Elves had held it longer, they were more mad and turned on their own people. Finally it was sent back to the gods as it always should have been. The Journey-Elves had never had a war before, so they were very upset, and are still angry and argue about whose fault it was.

(Sharlinnu feels it conveys most of the necessary information, but does have to concede that entirely omitting the Dark Lord is an odd choice.)

Legolas has heard of them. Celeborn would be relieved, if he was paying attention.

(Thranduil met Eluréd and Elurín a few times, between their coming to Menegroth and Nimloth informing Oropher that her father's death did not mean she needed his maternal cousin to step in and offer unsolicited suggestions, and in fact, if he could not treat her and Dior as adults and his king and queen, then he could get out of their council chambers — which had led to Oropher leaving Menegroth. Thranduil was quite young himself at the time, and grieving his dwarf-slain mother, but he remembered the twins clearly. He didn't dwell on the Kinslaying, but he mentioned Eluréd and Elurín.)

Legolas does not however feel qualified to explain Eluréd and Elurín, much less explain why everyone is so tense about it. He's hoping Elladan and Elrohir will do it.

Thus far they have not.

Elladan and Elrohir are—

Their family tree is full of ghosts. Third Age Elvendom was full of ghosts. They have to be prepared to meet some ghosts. And they are!

But Eluréd and Elurín were children of a peredhel father and an elven mother, identical twin boys with a younger sister, and— They were particularly eerie ghosts, and not ones their parents encouraged them to dwell on.

It's taking a little recalibration to absorb the idea of meeting them.

Anyway they're having a hushed conversation by themselves, and not explaining anything to anyone else.

Glorfindel, once he's satisfied that violence is not going to break out, announces he's going to ride back and see if he can find the Geese to speak with them.

…Khitwê ends up awkwardly trying to relay what he understands of the history to Gimli, Sharlinnu, and the Hirnedhrim.

Zuste says with great feeling that being a child abandoned in winter is just the worst. No one asks.

Sharlinnu remarks that this answers a number of questions she didn't ask about Reckless and Leafblight but none of her questions about Whiterot; in fact she now has several new ones.

Gimli asks for clarification on the 'can turn into swans' part. Khitwê has no idea about that.

Legolas says he doesn't understand that part, either.

Khitwê: "You couldn't make an attempt to explain the rest of it?"

Legolas: "I really don't know more than who they were!"

Risyind: "But wasn't your king still hating dwarves over Elder Days grudges? This doesn't bother him?"

Legolas denies any understanding of why he does or doesn't know anything to do with the First Age and what that knowledge or lack or knowledge does or doesn't have to do with his father's personal opinions.

The Geese prove elusive. Glorfindel decides pretty quickly they just don't want to be found at the moment, but still dawdles a bit before heading back.)

Really, everyone handles it very well.

[rielzero]

POV: The adventuring party meets up yearly after the epilogue to talk about their lives.

Loki Wren: So, I realized I really liked rats, and decided to raise them by hand because I thought they were cute- Even if they live short lives, I had to think: What else could befriending those critters bring? Loki Wren: Eventually, after selectively breeding the critters, I've gotten all sorts of quirky results, healthy of course. Its important to improve the lives of the offspring. They are my friends!

Loki Wren: To improve my communication skills and to tame them better, I asked Halsin to teach me a few things- I basicially don't go a day without casting speak with animals.

Loki Wren: Then, one of my nests developed a few prodigy rats, very obedient little pets. They're kind of my children. Started teaching them how to gather information. They're cute tiny spies. Very smart, very adorable.

Loki Wren: Had to neuter a lot of my babies though- You know- Things can get out of hand, one of my favorite sons tried to breed with sewer rats, and I didn't want to upset Astarion again with my obsession over these critters.. Early on he was not very happy with my research.

Loki Wren: My precious boy was angry with me first- but then understood it as if I had given him a new great holy mission: To befriend the sewer Colonies and establish an alliance with them through education.

Loki Wren: [starts laughing, there's a giggle at the end] And now I... [wheezes] Have an army of rats at my full disposal, with emissaries of rats training and teaching each other.. Convinced I am god. They developed an entire culture surrounding me.

Astarion: From ratboy, to ratfather, to Locke- then Loki Wren. And then Ratgod. Who would've thought. [chuckles] And now all in Baldur's Gate adore the critters.

Loki Wren: Anyway, the city is now psyched about pet rats and less eager to kill the sewer rats. My ''divine'' protection. [manical laughter] Of course, they do have territorial disputes. Helps keeping the population at bay.

Loki Wren: I love my rats..

Astarion: Sometimes I wonder if you are a genius or just really enthusiastic about your little hobbies.. Then I realize you are both. Always both.

Loki Wren: So what's everyone else been up to?

Shadowheart: Uh, I learned how to swim. Properly this time.

Karlach: The usual, fighting off fiends. [yawns] I would love to pet some rats though!! Wyll: I hunted a few bounties in Avernus... Nothing out of the ordinary. Seldazr: Published another book, I think Volo's jealous of my success. He's been trying to claim my glass eye is the cause. Not much else?

Gale: I've been trying and failing at modifying a scrying spell... Elminster has been dodging my letters. Lae'zel: Could you overthrow another city with the rats? They're pretty much soldiers already. I'm disappointed you haven't tried yet. Minthara: ..I would like to know as well. I think they'd do well in the underdark. Enough space. They could potentially and easily adapt to the ecosystem in a few generations, reigning terror on the denizens and cultivating with their religion into a functioning society. We've seen it happen many times before..

Loki Wren: ..How do you think the Bhaalists were driven out? They work better as spies.

Halsin: Okay- Thank Silvanus. I was worried you were conscripting them.. From what I've seen in the city itself, life thrives better with less conflict and more equity.

Loki Wren: I AM NOT SENDING MY BABIES TO WAR!!!

Astarion: [sips his drink] Of course not, Darling. Of course not.

Loki Wren: This is why we did not invite Jaheira for our repeated reunions, next thing you know she's ruining everything with her paranoia....

Meanwhile back in Baldur's gate

Jaheira: [holds up a pet rat that has no fur] Who's my little Minsc baby- who's my little baby boy??? Yes you are. You are. [scritches the rat]

Rion: Ugh.. Jord: :(

[river-in-the-woods]

You mentioned once being gifted with a Jade/green stone from the land, how has that been working for you? Have the spirits gifted you with anything else since or made any other bold moves you're grateful for?

I've kept that stone ever since, though I no longer live in the city where I found it. I might use it to craft a talisman if the need ever arises, but... so far I've not had a cause to.

I did also receive a holey stone from the river that city was named after, and had some interesting results meditating and scrying with it. One time, I asked to meet a beneficial spirit using the stone as a focus, and saw a vision of an elf-like being. Not the 'beautiful' kind such as from Lord of the Rings, though. Their appearance was a lot more fierce and wild. They had long black hair, claw-like nails, silvery eyes with no pupils, but they were smartly dressed in dark blue Georgian era suit. I felt that the spirit was cunning and had an air of aristocracy. Rather fae-like, if you will.

I later asked Ksitigarbha about it, and as far as I could gather, I had met a spirit, but my impression of their appearance was inaccurate because my spirit senses weren't very good (when one's clairvoyance is weak, one's mind will conjure images that are more familiar to the imagination). If I had gone ahead with further contact, the spirit could be helpful in removing stagnancy, thought they might do so in turbulent ways. I'm not sure I would have wanted to work with such a spirit anyway.

This was almost 2 years ago and nothing really came of it, and I've since moved away.

I do think I am exceptionally lucky, as in, circumstances tend to unfold in my favour. Good things come to me when I need them, and bad things, while they do still happen, don't stick around for very long. I've no idea if that's the work of spirits or not. I honestly do not have the skill to passively perceive them. Unless I am actively scrying and succeed in doing so, I don't know what they're up to.

There is a rather memorable night in September that I am grateful for. I was having an especially bad night of not being to sleep. Night starts, bad dreams, and a distinct feeling that something was entering my chest and blooming into a tingling sensation. It gave me so much anxiety that I couldn't sleep.

At the time, I was a few months into my training in Jason Miller's Sorcery of Hekate, so after tossing and turning in bed until 3am, I got up and recited Hekate's mantra. I had a vision of the goddess pointing her dagger at my heart (or at whatever was troubling me), and the anxiety dissipated until it was almost gone. Then I said a quick banishing incantation and went back to sleep without any problems.

It gave me a great deal of confidence in Hekate as I wasn't expecting her response to be so swift, and so early on in our relationship.

Thanks for the question!

[cookinguptales]

Thank you so much for the tarot reading you did for me a little while back 💜 i'm sorry it's taken me so long to say that! i do rather think you have prophetic gifts, by the way- it was spookily accurate and helped me a lot 🔮

No problem! I'm glad it was helpful to you!

I do tend to get at least one message like this every time I do a tarot night for my followers, and like... you are totally entitled to that belief! What do I know about psychic phenomena and prophecy anyway? lmao. Maybe I am psychic.

But personally, I believe that tarot has a high likelihood of speaking to us no matter what, if just because the archetypal nature of the cards means that they're dealing with problems that we all struggle with. We all have self-doubt, we all have complicated relationships with money, we all crave love of some kind. We all have trauma in our past and we all want to believe that this time, things could be okay.

One of the reasons I like tarot cards is because they are inanimate objects that we imbue with meaning. They were just playing cards, y'know? We're the ones that gave them power over us, and we did that by filling them with our own stories. We placed a mirror in those cards, and while mirrors can be used for scrying, they can also just be used to take a good hard look at ourselves.

If I say "oh, you've had money troubles in the past," who doesn't that apply to? Maybe I'm thinking about me, when we were homeless for a while when I was a kid. Maybe someone else is thinking about the money they lost to gambling last week. Maybe someone else, someone wildly wealthy, is thinking about a stock market crash that brought their five mansions down to two. Maybe a final person has just never had quite enough to make ends meet. God knows that describes a lot of people.

I like tarot because we can all look at the same spread and see something different. I see a story to tell to the best of my ability, and that's how I do readings. But for the people getting those readings, they're often looking into little mirrors and seeing how they reflect their own personal experiences.

Because, you know, we all see different things in the same mirror! That's how tarot works, I think. Maybe some people are a little better at reading things in that mirror and interpreting what they see there, but we all see something new and different and deeply, deeply personal when we look at those cards.

Love that for us.

[magistralucis]

Exile and the kingdom [Zultanekh/Djoseras Snippet]

(Something from the second part of we live on archipelagos. A meeting of the princes after Oltyx's banishment; Zultanekh discovers, much to his alarm, that is not just Oltyx who is 'gone'.

Sad to say it's time to suffer)

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

They will achieve nothing more in this fashion. "I will come to you."

Objectively this is suicidal. Unnas's temper was ever quick to ignite, and it never died down all that fast, either. If the banishment of his own scion hasn't kept him smouldering, an Ogdobekh prince in his crownworld surely will. Zultanekh does it anyway, for it is not in his nature to avoid the inevitable. The fact Djoseras didn't turn him down only urges him on. A dignified royal such as he would never normally allow himself to be seen that way - as Zultanekh makes landfall his core aches with a horrible sinking feeling he will find Djoseras damaged, physically or through pattern ataxia, but it is so much worse than that.

"Djoseras?"

This is bare desert. There is no one here. He checks the locus coordinates: this is the right place.

'Djoseras!'

He calls out twice, vocally and through the network, woven through with alarm-glyphs. Both dissolve into the wind.

Thankfully, just as he is really about to panic, he receives the kynazh's response. It comes not in the form of words nor sound, more a faint interstitial nudge; apparently he's close, much closer than Zultanekh thought. Zultanekh is puzzled as to how he missed him, until he clangs his fist against his palm in realization. Necrons of their station do not receive guests alone. They are accompanied at all times, even if by a mere scatter of lychguard - he was scanning for a retinue, which Djoseras may no longer have, if he has had to leave so abruptly.

He has never been to Antikef before. This emptiness was not what he expected to see, the open despair. Something terrible is taking its course.

The kynazh's personal signature points to a crumbling quarry of boulders. An ocular scry suggests it may be the foundations of a palace. Zultanekh marches towards it with two lychguards by his side, and is proven correct in his analysis; when he brushes a hand over the rocks, he gains an additional observation, namely that their cleavings are new. This is a palace not yet built. It does not hold, officially, even a single occupant.

But they are past official matters now. He finds Djoseras at the heart of the ruin, in the beginnings of a sepulchral hall. The kynazh sits on his princely throne, the only intact piece of furniture for miles; he has his back turned to Zultanekh when he enters, and does not look around, Zultanekh has to make the turn himself. This is the first time he has seen Djoseras in person since the war.

"Honoured kynazh, I..."

The person is as Zultanekh expected. The essence of Djoseras, less so.

He is staring blankly into forward ground. His oculars have no focus. His carapace is mirror-polished and perfect, thanks to the maintenance scarabs they bear, but the dullness of his flux fails to match it. He does not even appear to have moved in some time, from the way the dust has gathered by his feet. In the language of yore, Zultanekh supposes - he is bankrupt.

Limp in Djoseras's right hand is a small phase blade. A pile of something glitters on the floor. Zultanekh adjusts the magnification of his oculars, gazing beyond the sand-grains, and with alarm realizes that it is silver: as thin as foil, not beat into shape, but shaven. There's a piece of it still clinging to the blade. Metals have always been sacred to the Ogdobekh. No other noble would've cared for those details. Just as well, then, that Zultanekh is no other noble, for it does not escape his oculars that this is the same grade of silver as Djoseras's own.

Oltyx.

[odder-oddish]

Bond- Chapter 1

So uh.... this didn't take long. Got another chapter finished 22 hours later. Don't expect this pace for the rest of the work; I just got a flash of inspo to start this off. The only warning for this chapter is an implied hookup, but nothing actually happens.

S. Ward: Hello everyone, and welcome back to our show, All things Wicked This Night. Today, my witchy friend Mikaela and I are going to give you all a crash course in demonic rituals. Tell me Mikaela, what are the pieces of a ritual? M. Reid: So, there's actually a ton of variety depending on what your goal is and what kind of demon you want to summon, but there are some trends that I've observed in my practices. First, you need a casting bowl. Now really, this can be a glass, a jar, anything to hold your components. The components dictate the kind of ritual you'll cast. A summoning, a scrying, a blessing even. S. Ward: Though I don't know why you'd go around blessing demons. (laughs) M. Reid: True. Anyway, I always suggest incense, especially if you're newer to spellcasting. While you don't need it, it helps stabilize the spell and takes a lot of mental strain off the caster. Candles are used as an energy source to fuel the ritual, and finally, mostly for summonings, there's a sigil. This is what actually contains the demon. Otherwise, you bring it to you and it's free to roam about. S. Ward: Thank you for the overview. And for our listeners at home wanting to try a ritual, always remember the first rule of demon summoning. M. Reid. Never summon something you can't banish. "All things Wicked This Night" (podcast) Season 3, Episode 12

_____

The drive south is grueling. Felix is already terrible at keeping a sleep schedule, and these last few days have been worse. Now, it's almost four in the morning, and he's pushing twenty-five hours straight of being awake. It doesn't help that the old car doesn't have a port for music, and the radio doesn't play much of anything good at this time of night. He stifles a yawn as he pulls into a gas station to refuel.

He enters the store of the station after filling the car to get a coffee. "Damn, buddy," says the man working there. He's old, and tired-looking himself. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not far off," says Felix, filling a large cup and pulling out his wallet to pay.

The man waves him off. "On the house. You need it."

Felix thanks him and returns to the car, rubbing his eyes. He's pulled all-nighters before, but this is brutal. He's fought two demons today and spent the better part of the afternoon tracking a demon through Vegas. He wills himself to stay awake for the final hour of the journey before pulling back on the the interstate. Luckily, the shitty coffee, residual pain in his arm, and pure spite allow him to survive the trip until he pulls up to the house.

The house is nice and modern. It's got two stories with a wrap around porch and a white picket fence, the perfect image of peace and relaxation. It's advertised to the locals as a rental property for folks looking to get away from city life, but in reality, it's nothing like that. Felix pulls his luggage out of the car and climbs the steps to the front door. He pulls a key out of his back pocket, unlocking the door and stepping inside, before locking it behind him.

Zarina and Haddie, two of his American contacts, had built this place almost a decade ago. It was an old safehouse that they and their other allies used when they were in the area. The walls were covered in bookshelves with journals and tomes about Demonology, spellcasting, and similar otherworldly arts.

"Felix, you made it," says Elodie, stepping out of the kitchen with a large, ornate bowl. She looks just about as exhausted Felix does. "Sorta," she adds, taking in his demeanor. "I've got the kettle on for some tea, if you want some."

"That would be great."

Elodie gives a satisfied nod at his answer. She turns back to go to the kitchen, stopping only briefly to say, "I'm just mixing the last of the herbs. Why don't you set your stuff down in the bedroom?"

Following her suggestion, Felix moves to one of the two bedrooms in the house. It's a modest arrangement, with a double bed pressed against the corner of the room, a desk with a comfortable chair, a large wardrobe taller than he is, and a single bedside table with a lamp. But he's not expecting luxury. They're here to summon a demon after all.

Felix gets to work unpacking his single suitcase and duffel bag. His clothes only fill half the wardrobe, but his journals and spell components fill out the desk. He does kick off his shoes and quickly wash his face in the bathroom; glad to finally be off the road.

When Felix goes back downstairs, Elodie is back in the kitchen, reading over the instructions to the spell while mixing a few herbs together. "Here," she says, handing Felix the page with the ingredients. "I'm going to draw the sigil. Can you add everything else?" Felix nodded and looked over the instructions. Rosemary, thyme, honeycomb, everything looked simple. He added peppermint oil to the vial with the demon's blood, washing it out of the container and adding it to the mixture before muddling everything together.

"Wouldn't it have been easier to do this near the demon's location?" he asks.

Elodie opens a large brown messenger bag and pulls out a stick of chalk. "Yeah, but you know it caught wind of our location, and there's nothing between here and Vegas that's any safer. If we want to get capture this guy, this is the best place to do it."

Felix shrugs. She's not wrong, but the summoning scares him. They've never actually done it before, and Felix has only a rudimentary understanding of witchcraft. Elodie's a little better, but the spell seems advanced, even for her. She's always been the more careless of the two, and it makes him uneasy. But they've survived twenty years together; he can have faith in her.

"So, explain the plan to me," he says, bringing the bowl into the library where Elodie is tracing out a sigil.

"It's pretty straight forward," she says. "The spell calls for a handful of components and either of piece of the demon or something it's created. We have it's blood, so we're good there. If it works, he gets summoned to our location, and as soon as he arrives, it'll be chained to the sigil, unable to leave. I'll perform the exorcism, and if something goes wrong, you stick a knife in its chest."

"And you're feeling confident about" Felix asks. Elodie nods. "Do we have all the components?"

"The paper I gave you have everything for the bowl. The other components are written here," she says holding up the spellbook to a page depicting the summoning ritual. "Just incense and five candles, one on each point."

She goes back to drawing. The sigil itself is small and simple in design. No fancy characters or symbols to draw out. It's a pentagon with a few geometric lines protruding from each corner. "All finished," says Elodie, dusting the extra chalk off of her hands. "I'll go get the candles; you got the bowl?"

Felix nods. He puts the bowl in the center of the sigil, before adding a stick of incense and lighting it. The warm scent of peppermint fills the room and a faint trail of smoke rises up above the bowl. Elodie returns with five candles, lighting one at each corner.

"You ready?" she asks, pulling out a book with the summoning chant written on it.

Felix nods and steps back. He closes the curtains in the room and shuts off the lights. The only light comes from the candles. Careful to stay outside the summoning sigil, Felix makes his way back to where Elodie stands, pulling his silver knife out of his pocket. He keeps himself in front of her protectively, ready to be the first line of defense once this demon appears.

Elodie begins the verse, voice strong and unwavering. Felix feels a gust of wind raise the hairs on the back of his neck. Something is happening, and only time will tell if it's working.

The candles flicker, but hold steady. The wind picks up and the temperature drops significantly. Felix instinctively shivers at the feeling. Suddenly, he gets the feeling that he's being watched, but he shakes it off. From what he's read, demons being summoned play tricks to try to scare summoners off. It's just a trick, it has to be a trick.

The wind is howling now. It's freezing. Something feels wrong, and he wants to ask Elodie, but finds his voice stuck in his throat. Felix suddenly feels a tug at his left arm. He looks down and a thin, golden chain has wrapped around his finger. It's cold to the touch, and it fits like a snug ring. There's a strong tug on the chain, pulling him, and he stumbles forward towards the sigil, just barely stopping himself before he crosses the chalk line.

"Almost there," says Elodie before continuing the chant.

The wind stings Felix's skin. It hurts, unlike anything he's ever felt before. There's a white hot pain and his vision goes fuzzy. He tries to right himself, but his brain can't figure out which way is up. The last thing he remembers is losing his balance, falling forward towards the tile floor. He braces for a rough impact, but something catches him before he lands on the hard ground, and then everything goes blank.

______

Ace is ecstatic. He's definitely chosen the right partners for tonight. He's lying naked between two gorgeous men, having the time of his life, when suddenly, he feels an ethereal claw reach for him and pull.

Shit. Is he being summoned? He hasn't been summoned in a year. What the hell is this? Ace tries to resist it, tries to send psychic energy to the summoner to dissuade them from continuing, but it's no use. He can feel his legs going numb. He quickly looks to his partners as the numbness begins to travel up his body. "Sorry darlings, but I gotta go. Have fun without me, 'kay?"

"Right now? But we're already-"

"Ta-ta!"

Ace wishes he could see the look of shock on the two humans as he's pulled from a comfy California king in Las Vegas to a rather plain looking house in who knows where, arriving with a massive pulse wave of energy shooting out from his body. He doesn't have much time to react before a man stumbles forward, falling towards him. Instinctively, he reaches out to catch the man before he falls.

He's unconscious. Well, little victories. Ace holds up his clawed hand, ready to make it a quick, simple kill, when he notices a gleaming golden chain dangling from the man's finger. It trails across the floor and then up to connect to… Ace's own hand. Fuck. Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

Lowering the man to the ground, Ace takes in his surroundings. He appears to be in a small library. There's a woman lying against a bookshelf, several of the novels are scattered around her body. She must have been flung back when Ace was summoned. There was a spell book in her hand; she was the summoner. He's standing in a sigil, but he's not trapped. Something went wrong with the spell.

Ace looks over the man again. He appears to have dropped a knife when he fell, and Ace is lucky it didn't hit either of them. There are also deep bags under his eyes; even without the summoning, he probably wouldn't have stayed conscious much longer.

He decides to leave the library, so he throws the man over his shoulders (rather ungracefully) and leaves the room. As he passes by the kitchen, he notices the stove has been left on. A tea kettle sits to the side of the stove, but someone forgot to shut it off. He flips the switch, relieved that there won't be an accidental house fire. He walks up the stairs before coming across two bedrooms with open doors. One of them has the wardrobe open with decidedly more feminine clothes inside, so he walks to the other bedroom, shuts the door, and drops the man (equally ungracefully) on the bed.

"Do you know how much shit you've gotten us into?" he asks, not expecting nor receiving a response. "I don't even know which of us has it worse, isn't that funny?"

Ace plops down onto the desk chair. He doesn't sleep, but he appreciates the time to clear his mind and plan out his next move.

[divinationrose]

Hello, hello, saw the free readings and wanted to check if they are still open. if not totally fine.

Question: Should I (AD) at some point invest in a career of divination? like doing tarot readings for people. I've been reading for people more often and began to wonder if thats something I should do in the near future . anyway yeah.

Thank you so much in advance, have a wonderful day/night

Hey there! 😊👋

Temperence - Careful consideration when taking on a new opportunity. Sacrifice will be needed to get to your desired outcome. I think this is a good opportunity if it's something you love and feel intuitively drawn to do, but I think it's going to take time to get to the level you want to be at, and could result in some setbacks financially/mentally if you go all in, without preparing yourself properly for this to happen, you maybe left feeling let down at the start.

Page of cups reversed - Caution and careful planning are essential, if you go ahead with this. [[I'm seeing someone bunjee jumping - impulsive]] consideration wether this is something you feel will bring you the success that you desire, because I'm getting slow and steady vibes here in building yourself up strongly.

The hanged man - risks again involved with this card - be it financial, home life etc. I think you just need to maybe draw up some plans on your expectations financially perhaps for maybe the first year, so your not caught stumbling.

Things that came to me whist eyelid scrying for this ask and what they could mean. -

[[woman laughing menacingly though not heartily?!]]

I'm getting it could be possibly your mother, not in tune with this part of you. But I'm not entirely sure? !

A vintage puppet laid down with a blank expression. - the invisible double of the human. Puppets, are used to embody spiritual beings - I think this is signifying the fact you do have genuine strong abilities and strong spirtual connection within yourself to go for this, and it to eventually be as succesful as you wish.

A grey rabbit. - can signify the abundant potential for growth and creation.

Hope this helps 🥰

Please take everything with a pinch of salt, I'm very brand new to all of this! ❤️