#The Silent Movie Tarot Card Deck

[collinsportmaine]

The Silent Movie Tarot Card Deck

[11cupids-tarot11]

What can help your dreams ★Manifest☆ ?

1 -> 3

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Tarot Deck used: Garbage Pail Kids

Oracle Deck used : The Roast Iconic

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 1- The Devil, Six of Coins in Reverse, The Hanged Man

Oracle cards- "Billionaire: Are you hoarding wealth to fuel your King or Queen Baby dreams? Do not pass Go, do not collect a million dollars, don't even go to jail or pay taxes- think about doing some good and using your hoard to end WORLD HUNGER ALREADY!"

"Black Square: Apparently, you are only down for doing the bare minimum during an incredibly significant time to stand up and advocate for human rights. Drawing this card reminds you that your actions need to not be just performative, they must be based in real knowledge and include follow-through, both online and IRL (in real life). You don't have to be on the front lines, but at this point in history, you can't be silent either."

Hi my pile 1's 😭 I feel like it's been forever I hate being away from my blog for too long cause I start to miss y'all literally lol.

So anyways for your reading today I feel like Spirit is wanting to draw attention to maybe some addictions, self sabotage is what I heard while shuffling the cards. I feel this heavy energy of someone purposely messing up their own blessings in a way I feel like maybe someone's stuck in this very heavy energy but also not really doing anything about it? Like maybe you know something's not good for you, maybe it's a connection or even a job that's tiring you out, it's something along those lines but you just can't stop it, you know? I heard someone needs to do an energy cleanse! I heard take some time off. Maybe someone's drowning themselves in something like studying too much, there's something about over doing something. Someone could have very curly hair here.

So I'm hearing here someone should take the time off and do something fun, relax a little. I think there's a message here also of feeling like you haven't done enough of something and you're obsessing about it mentally a lot and spirit is saying just take a little break from it and endulg in something else, something that makes you happy and makes you feel like you, you know? Even if it's just taking a walk while listening to your favorite music or maybe reading your favorite book and watching your favorite movie, you know? So with the six of coins here I'm also getting a message of like you've worked really hard already and you've done a great job honestly it's okay to rest and not be perfect already already, Rome wasn't built in a day I'm hearing!

The hanged man is just confirmation you've definitely been making yourself sick and stuck by obsessing over this thing. I also feel like maybe you're stuck because spirit is wanting you to see things from a different perspective, like in my garbage pail kid tarot card Wacky Jacky is hanging and all stuck in a tree but while she's stuck she realizes she sees the world in a whole different perspective and it's then new ideas come to her. Approach your goal from a new angle!

I feel like someone here is also someone very important with a very hard position and that might be why you work so hard, you have a lot of pressure on you maybe. Take what resonates!

Hope you enjoyed this reading! Let me know, I love you and take care ♡

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 2- Queen of Wands Reversed, Seven of Wands Reversed and Three of Cups.

Oracle cards- "Troll: Are you a Necessary Evil? Do you feel you must play Devil's Advocate? Or are you someone who hates themselves so much they feel they have to try to get others to feel the same way? If you answered "yes" to one or more of these questions, please seek help or therapy, or get a hobby."

"Bitch: Are you being a Bitch, or just making sure they can't take advantage of you? Stand up for yourself, but make sure you don't steamroll anyone in the process. Do no harm, but take no shit."

Hi pile 2's, hope you're doing amazing 🤩

So right off the bat I'm picking up shy energy lol, someone who's maybe more reserved or introverted. I don't want to say basically Spirit thinks you should be loud or more outgoing but I definitely think you'll go through a time period of weird energy and out of the ordinary situations happening that are forcing you out of your comfort zone. You might not get any more extroverted but I definitely do see branching out might help, sitting with your close friends and just letting yourself let loose or just enjoy the company. You might be someone who people look at and not get the big picture right away, like they have lots of accusations about you but you're kind of closed off so these accusations aren't 100% true because there's more to you than people know, you're just not the type to go and give yourself away that easily. You might be someone who prefers to keep a very close knit group of friends, I heard something about trust issues.

You could be petite, someone who doesn't look like they're very strong and that's what surprises everyone when you finally do show them you are indeed strong. You can be loud and extroverted too I think it's a choice to really be in this shell of yours, maybe it's what's comfortable and that's exactly the problem, when we're too comfortable we don't see the point in changing. Like why fix it if it isn't broken? But you hold great significance, you're just a significant person to the universe and I'm not even sure if you're aware but you are lol.

It's crazy because I'm picking up mixed messages lol, with the Queen of Wands in reverse it makes me feel like someone here is very down and unsure about themselves, needs to take some me time and get away from socializing but with the Three of Cups someone here needs to "stop being alone so much" is how I channeled it, advising you to go out more with the people you love and celebrate, have a good time and just have fun so take what resonates as you know yourself best and what applies to your situation.

With the seven of Wands I'm getting a message of someone who's stressed, you maybe have felt very tired, over worked maybe, even dealing with certain responsibilities or relationship makes us feel tired and all worn out so take this how it resonates. You're on the brink of giving up, maybe you felt like it's not worth it or simply just can't find results you've been wanting to see, maybe this thing is literally killing you because Spirit is stressing you drop it enough to take the stress off you. I wouldn't advise anyone to just give up, but Spirit used such words as "drop it" like maybe the thing you're supposed to drop isn't serving you and that's why it's making you feel so bad. I'm just hearing Spirit even ask if you think all of this is worth it? This is something tough that's been bothering you, it could even be as simple as negative thoughts with all of the wands energy here, I think this is a group in their head a lot always trying to hold themselves accountable and very motivated to just do right. I heard a message that it's hard coming up for new creative endeavors because of all of the negativity in your thoughts holding you back, this energy is blocking your ideas. It's like you vs you almost, I think you have the power to help your dreams manifest all on their own just with your thoughts alone so keep a check for your energy, watch who you share your energy with because it's important and powerful. You're powerful I heard!

I hope you find this helpful! Take care angelz love you! ♡

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pile 3- Seven of Cups, The Chariot and King of Wands.

Oracle Cards- "Black Square: Apparently, you are only down for doing the bare minimum during an incredibly significant time to stand up and advocate for human rights. Drawing this card reminds you that your actions need to not be just performative, they must be based in real knowledge and include follow-through, both online and IRL (in real life). You don't have to be on the front lines, but at this point in history, you can't be silent either."

"Red Flag: No matter how often you try to bleach the red flags white, they only turn back to red. You have been warned- now PULL ANOTHER CARD!"

"Cult Leader: You are not a guru, a Timelord, or a demigod. You are an egomaniac who needs minions so you can feel like an authority to compensate for your own feelings of inferiority. Grow up!"

Hi pile 3! Hope you're having a fantastic day where you are!

So right away I'm picking up a message of not seeing the bigger picture, this pile feels more like a "How to Manifest more quicker" lol. I'm hearing this very slow moving energy, someone refusing to move on to the next chapter though you might be aware it's time to even but I'm getting a sense of fear. Even if you are unaware of these changes there's still so much anxiety and fear surrounding you at these times because the universe is basically forcing you to move lol! Move or be moved I'm hearing.

So overall I feel like someone in this pile might have lots of distractions, someone might have adhd and a hard time concentrating on tasks. Spirits drawing your attention these times and reminding you to stay focus.

With the Chariot card I feel like there's some movement here that needs to happen, you need to take action. I think that's the best way to help your manifestations right now, maybe someone here even forget exactly what they were manifesting and Spirit is like "Uhh HELLO? DO YOU REMEBER THAT THING??" lol. I heard someone's just been away from the job a little too long, I even get from the Seven of Cups it might've been you were distracted with something else that just sparked your attention better, but all that glitters isn't gold!

So I think you're working on being in this King of Wands energy, someone who is very productive, knows what they want, speaks up about anything, rather it's an idea they have or just wanting authority. I feel like a few of you even might know exactly what this is, I feel like a few of you might not even have a specific dream you want to manifest just clicking on the reading for fun lol but there's still a secretive message here I think you'll understand as you apply it to your situation.

Spirit is asking you to maybe think about the roots you want to plant and start from there, stay true to your craft and perspective and be committed.

I hope you enjoyed this reading! I love you, see you soon ❤️ ★

[juliandev0rak]

Into The Wild  

Chapter 5: Honeysuckle

✧ Into The Wild Series ✧ playlist ✧

Words: 3023

At the beginning of the summer Asra and Willa did a tarot reading, just for fun and mostly as an excuse for Willa to show off the cards she’d designed and painted herself. It had been a simple one card pull to symbolize the theme of the summer, and she’d pulled the star— symbolizing hope, faith, and rebirth. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now, looking back at the last few weeks of summer, Willa has realized just how correct that prediction was.

She can’t remember the last time she was this happy and excited for the future. The last few years have been hard on her own, and joining the staff of Camp Vesuvia had been a last-ditch effort to fix things, to make something of herself, to find a place to belong. And as her tarot deck had predicted, she’d done all of those things. Though there was no way the cards could have predicted Muriel, or how much Willa has grown to like him in just a few short weeks.

After the movie night, specifically after the cuddling in the dark and goodbye cheek kisses, she’d been afraid he would disappear. But Muriel had kept his promise to be around more, and they’ve spent the last few days almost entirely together. He’s joined her at meals, sat with her every night at the campfire, and even helped her with work. volunteering in the arts and crafts cabin when his own work was slow.

And Willa had been just as eager to see him, she’d even followed him around on a patrol one evening. It should have been scary to be in the forest after dark like that, but she’d never had so much fun in her life holding the flashlight and listening to Muriel tell stories about his work to pass the time. That’s another change, he actually talks to her now. And whether it’s due to her persistent encouragement finally wearing him down or the tentative trust they’ve built up over a few weeks of friendship, Willa is very glad for the change.

In all of the busy days of work and evenings spent sitting close together by the fire, time has moved fast. Only one week remains before the end of the summer. Only one week remains until Willa has to drive back down the mountain and back to whatever remains of her solitary life in the city. She supposes she’ll have to look for a new job, and that she’ll simply have to forget about how wonderful things have been here at Camp Vesuvia.

Willa doesn’t want to think about forgetting Muriel yet, the thought hurts too much to consider though the deadline for accepting it grows ever nearer.

With only seven days left till the end of camp, it’s time for the culminating event of the summer— the annual talent show. It’s all the campers have been able to talk about for days, and most camp activities have been halted to allow them to practice their talents. Willa had been asked to judge, but she decided to leave that job to Asra and Julian. They’ve been bickering all day about the criteria used to find a winner and what “defines talent”. The winners will get prize money, a trophy, and most importantly— the glory of winning Camp Vesuvia’s talent show.

The air is full of excitement, and as Willa enters the amphitheater she can’t help but be swept up in the festive mood. Lucio has been busy with the decorations, he’s got an eye for dramatic decor and somehow managed to turn the outdoor stage into a real theater experience. There are lights strung through the trees, a red curtain creating a backstage area, and he even managed to convince the kitchen staff to bring out the popcorn machine.

As the campers file in, Willa takes her seat in the back, making sure to save the seat next to her for Muriel. When she saw him earlier in the day he’d promised to be there even though “talent shows aren’t his thing”, as he’d told her in no uncertain terms. Nadia takes to the stage to start the show and Willa searches the crowd, not spotting Muriel anywhere. Portia waves Willa over to sit with her and Asra, but she shakes her head. She’ll wait a little longer for him.

The first act goes up, one of the older campers sings a Taylor Swift song. She’s actually really good and Willa gives her a standing ovation when she finishes. The camper gets a ten from Julian and an eight from Asra which causes a squabble between the judges which Nadia has to break up. The judges are almost better entertainment than the show itself, and by the time the second competitor takes the stage Willa’s nearly forgotten the empty seat next to her. But sometime in the middle of the next act Muriel arrives, silently taking the open seat.

“Sorry I’m late,” Muriel says.

Willa scooches over to make more room for him on the bench, giving him a smile in greeting. “I’m glad you made it.”

“What did I miss?”

“The first camper sang a cover of ‘You Belong With Me’, and then Julian and Asra fought over the scores. Someone needs to take those score cards away from them before a physical fight breaks out,” Willa laughs, eyeing the judges warily.

The corner of Muriel’s mouth quirks up in amusement. “Sounds like them.”

The next act features a bunch of card tricks involving audience participation. “Is this your card?” the boy asks, holding up the King of Hearts for another camper to inspect. It turns out that it wasn’t the right card, and the judges give out a measly 5 and 3 as scores.

Willa sneaks a glance at Muriel as the judges deliberate and finds him already looking at her. Instead of looking away they both stare for a minute, only breaking eye contact when applause signals the next act taking the stage. Willa clears her throat, hoping the moment of staring wasn’t as awkward as she fears it was.

“Did you ever compete in a talent show?” Muriel asks, his voice pulling her out of her thoughts. He keeps his volume at a polite whisper so as not to disturb the performance.

“I was homeschooled so I didn't have much of a chance, but my brothers and I would put on our own talent shows,” Willa whispers back. “We used to charge our parents a dollar to watch the show.”

“What was your talent?”

“Singing, I wanted to be on Broadway when I was a kid. As I got older I realized I’m not that great of an actor,” Willa says, smiling at the memory of her younger self tap dancing her way across the barn.

“I think you’d be good at it.” Muriel sounds earnest, as if he really means the compliment.

“Thanks, but I think you’ll have to hear me sing first before you make that judgement,” Willa laughs.

“I’d like to hear you sing.”

Willa blushes at the comment, ducking her chin into her scarf to hide her face. “Maybe someday.”

“But I’m not going to karaoke.”

“That’s ok, it’s a bit much even for me,” she says, trying to keep her tone even as he continues to look directly at her.

A strong breeze moves through the trees around them and Muriel suppresses a shiver, his shoulder bumping hers. Willa wonders again why he doesn't bundle up in more clothing, maybe the cold doesn’t bother him like it bothers her. The thought reminds her of the present she made him and Willa turns to him excitedly.“I brought you something.”

“Huh?”

Willa reaches into her tote bag, digging past her water bottle and various scrunchies and nearly-empty packs of gum. Finally she locates the gift and pulls it out for Muriel to see. “I made you a scarf!’’

“You… made this?” Muriel takes the green knit scarf out of her hands, inspecting the repeating pattern with interest. “Why?”

“I wanted to! It gets cold here at night. I know you have to patrol outside a lot and I thought you might like something to keep you warm.” Willa reaches for the scarf again and he lets her take it. “May I?”

Muriel inclines his head slightly and allows her to wrap the scarf around his neck. When he lifts his head he’s smiling and Willa exhales in relief. He likes it.

The talent show goes on, though Willa and Muriel admittedly don’t pay much attention to it. There are musical acts, dancing, and every sort of talent in between and though Asra and Julian continue to bicker a little, as the night continues they seem to get it together. They manage to at least avoid breaking out the score cards as weapons.

With only a few acts remaining the tensions are high, and the crowd has only gotten louder. Willa looks over at Muriel and notices how uncomfortable he looks at the increased volume and chaos. He seems like he wants to leave, and Willa can’t blame him, it is a bit much. Since she’s not technically on duty tonight, and she wants to spend more time with him, Willa concocts a new plan for the evening.

“Would you like to go get some cocoa? The kitchen should still be open,” she suggests.

Muriel looks up, eyes wide in relief. “That’d be nice.”

“Let’s go then! I need a snack.” Willa grabs his hand on the pretense of pulling him up from his seat, but he doesn’t pull his hand away once he’s up. As they leave the amphitheater his fingers weave through hers and he holds her hand more tightly.

“Are we allowed to be in here this late?” Muriel asks as they enter the kitchen building. It’s warm and brightly lit, a nice reprieve from the dark path they’d had to navigate to walk here.

Willa crosses over to the cabinet where mugs are stored, reaching up on her tiptoes to grab two mugs. “Wellll… not technically, but I’m friends with the kitchen staff so it’s fine!”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Muriel stands by the door, uncertainty clouding his expression.

“Muriel it’s fine, I promise. Come here and help me measure the cocoa,” she beckons him over, holding a spoon out for him to take. They make their cocoa, stirring warm milk and chocolate powder together until it's smooth.

Willa holds her mug up to her nose, inhaling the chocolate scent. “Do you want marshmallows?”

“Only if they aren’t burnt to a crisp. Maybe I should handle them,” Muriel laughs, and Willa turns to him with a surprised grin.

“Wait, was that a joke?”

“I can be funny.” He plops two marshmallows into his mug and puts three in Willa’s.

“Thanks.” Willa holds her mug up, clinking it against Muriel’s in cheers.

They sip their cocoa in silence, enjoying the quiet after a night of too much noise. Out of the corner of her eyes Willa notices Muriel watching her and she wonders if he’ll say something or if she should first. He beats her to it, setting his mug down on the counter before he turns to face her more fully.

“What will you do after this summer?” he asks.

Of course he would bring up the one topic she most wants to avoid. “I’m not quite sure, I guess I’ll move back to the city and start looking for another job,” Willa sighs. 

“So you’re leaving.”

Willa takes a sip of her cocoa, trying to decipher his tone as she thinks of a response. He sounds almost sad, and she can’t imagine it’s on her behalf. “I think I have to, I can’t stay here with no campers around, I wouldn’t have a job.”

Muriel’s hair falls into his face, leaving half of it in shadow, but Willa can still see him frown. “Why are you spending time with me, why aren’t you out there with your friends?”

“You are my friend and I like spending time with you, I like you,” she says. “We’ve been over this.”

“Why do you give me things? I don’t ever give you anything in return,” Muriel looks frustrated now and Willa fights the urge to reach out and take his hand. She gives him his space, keeping her hands firmly planted on her mug.

“You give me plenty, Muriel. I know this will sound cheesy but your friendship is a gift, being around you is the best part of my day,” Willa explains. “You don’t have to give me anything.”

Muriel still looks frustrated and confused, and Willa sighs in defeat. She’s leaving in a week, it’s now or never. If Muriel isn’t getting the picture she’ll just have to draw him a new one. Though part of her wants to just bury these emotions and not risk ruining things, she's never been one to shy away from her feelings. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way as her it’s only fair that he knows how she feels.

Before she can overthink it any more Willa blurts out, “The truth is Muriel, I like you.”

He tilts his head to the side in confusion. “You already said that?”

“No, I like you, as in romantically,” Willa pauses. Muriel stares at her blankly as if he doesn’t understand her words, but now that she’s started talking it’s hard to stop.

“I’ve liked you for weeks now, actually, ever since that night when you taught me how to roast marshmallows. And I know summer’s ending soon so I feel like I have to tell you now or I’ll never get a chance and I know I’ll regret it forever if I don’t. I don’t want to be an old lady still thinking about that crush I had in my twenties that went nowhere because I was too afraid to tell him so uh, here I am telling you…” Willa trails off, wondering if Muriel might need medical attention, he looks very pale.

“You like me?” he repeats.

“I do,” Willa nods.

Muriel continues to stare at her in silence and Willa doesn’t know what to say. Finally, the tension breaks and Muriel grabs his jacket off of the coat rack by the door. “I should go.” Before she can process what he’s said Muriel opens the door, practically running outside.

“Muriel, wait!” Willa stands in the doorway calling after him, but he doesn't turn. She briefly considers going after him but that might only make things worse.

Instead, she takes a seat on the doorstep, feeling like she wants to disappear into the dirt. For a second, tears well up behind her eyes but she blinks them away, feeling silly for caring so much. He’d run away. She’d told him she liked him and he’d left, there could be no clearer sign of rejection.

“Well, that went well didn’t it,” Willa mutters sarcastically, using her sleeve to wipe at her damp eyes. “I need to go clean something.”

She heads back into the kitchen, trying to ignore the well of emotions she feels as she washes the mug Muriel had been holding only minutes ago. She watches the cocoa wash down the drain, feeling like her own life might be headed in that direction. 

Her tarot reading from the beginning of the summer feels like a sick joke now, she should’ve pulled the tower instead, that would be a more accurate depiction of the summer. At least she’s leaving soon, Muriel won’t have to worry about bumping into her anymore. And she won’t have to see him, she won’t have to walk around camp being reminded of him and how she’d ruined things.

After a few minutes of listlessly scrubbing already clean kitchen counters, Willa takes a seat on the doorstep again. The sudden sound of footsteps approaching startles her and she turns towards the path, wondering if perhaps Muriel has come back after all. She’s surprised, and a little disappointed, to find Nadia instead.

The camp director gives her a soft smile in greeting and gestures to the step, “Is there room for one more?”

“Of course.” Willa scoots over to make room for her.

Nadia looks at Willa with a raised eyebrow, taking in her tear-stained face and red eyes. “I saw Muriel on the way here, he looked quite disturbed.”

“That’s my fault, I scared him off.”  Willa fiddles with the edges of her scarf as she speaks, picking at a loose thread.

“I’ve known Muriel for many years now, and while he is a very capable, kind person he does not always know how to react to people. Especially not pretty girls,” Nadia smiles, nudging Willa with her shoulder. 

Willa tries to laugh, though the sound comes out as more of a weak sniffle. “How did you know I liked him?”

Nadia laughs, “Oh Willa, the whole camp knows.”

“Of course they do,” Willa shakes her head in dismay. “Well clearly Muriel doesn’t feel the same way, he ran away from me after I told him.”

“As I said, he doesn’t always know how to react. Give him some space, give him some time,” Nadia counsels. Willa would normally agree but she has no more time, she can’t be patient.

“I’m out of time, Nadia. Camp is over in a week,” Willa frowns. “And I think it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t like me.”

“He likes you,” Nadia states, her tone the no-nonsense matter of fact one she uses when directing campers. “I’m certain of that.”

Willa stares down at the dirt, wondering how Nadia could possibly be certain of that. “Even if he does like me there’s no point, it doesn’t matter if I'm leaving.”

“Where’s that eternal optimist who stepped into my office at the beginning of the summer?” Nadia asks, putting a comforting hand on Willa’s shoulder to draw her attention. “Would it change anything if I told you that you don’t have to leave Camp Vesuvia?”

“What?”

“Would you like to stay?”

✧

[miriossunshine]

I am a 5’2 bisexual woman who hasn’t seen her natural hair color for many years now. I mostly wear black. Jeans and tank tops are my go to and I’ll throw on an oversized hoodie if I’m cold. I hate wearing shoes and wear flip flops all year round…yes, including in the snow and I regret it every time. I love dying and changing my hair. Right now it’s purple.

I have been mistaken for a child/teen more than once.

I’m a Capricorn and my MBTI is ENFP

I have adhd, anxiety, and depression. I have goals and I meet those goals - but the process of getting there is not always pretty or makes sense to other people. I also have to modes, I either give it my everything, 1000% effort, or I won’t do it at all. And that can be determined by as something small as someone telling me I “have/need to do it” because I have a problem with authority and being told what to do or how to do something.

I don’t sit still well at all. I love going out and trying new things. I love to travel and am pretty fearless (except for spiders…). The only time I sit still is when I’m reading. I’m an avid reader, but even then I have my limits. My favorite genre is horror. I love scary things - movies, books, documentaries, tv shows. I love it all. Stephen King and Clive Barker are two of my favorite authors. Hellraiser is my favorite franchise.

I do have bad days with my mental health. When that’s happens I tend to isolate myself from others. Stay in bed and read or watch a movie to keep myself from thinking (does it work? No but I’m too stubborn to break the habit).

Some hobbies of mine include witchcraft. I specialize in divination with cards (tarot and oracle). I have a large collection of rocks/crystals, decks of tarot and oracle cards, and candles. I have a habit of pocketing random rocks, acorns, and other things I find out on walks and hikes because I think they look cool.

Thank you so much in advance!

💚🖤💚🖤

not a problem at all, dear!! thank you so much for your request!! <333 i hope you enjoy! 💕💕💕

i ship you with:

𝐦𝐫. 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬!

atsuhiro is accepting of the way you go about your goals, he doesn’t force you or say anything about them, instead he offers helpful advice when you ask or need it! ^_^

he admires your willingness to try new things! sometimes he feels “too old” to match your energy but he always has so much fun with you! he says you “make him feel young again” even tho this man is literally only 32 😭😭😭

atsuhiro appreciates how fearless you are, it comforts him to know that you don’t mind that he’s a villain. on top of that, he often reminds you that no matter what he’ll always protect you!

when you guys are cuddled up and just chilling, you like to read together. sometimes you read to each other! atsuhiro’s soothing voice is enough to send you sleep no matter how thrilling the story may be (￣∇￣)

he kind of approaches you like a dad would when he notices you’ve started to isolate yourself. (knocking on your door, asking “you okay champ?”, asking if he can get you any food, etc. HDJDKJSNSND) if you’d rather be alone, he honors your wishes and tells you that he’ll be waiting for you when you feel better. if you’d rather relax together quietly, atsuhiro gently crawls into bed next to you and reads silently to himself.

if you come to him and tell him that watching movies to avoid your thoughts is a habit you’d like to break, atsuhiro is a great listener. he offers advice when necessary, but mostly hears you out entirely. he’s a rlly supportive and patient bf 💕💕

atsuhiro gets so excited when you show him your witchy hobbies! when he has a problem, he’ll ask for a reading, and in return he teaches you magic tricks \(//∇//)\ !! he gifts you many candles with different properties, (mostly romantic ones) and always has a few lit for you to come home to 😭💕

he chuckles at you and shakes his head when you suddenly bend down to examine an acorn or rock. now whenever he sees them while he’s on missions he thinks of you, and pockets them for good luck ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡ he will also sometimes put particularly cool ones in marbles and surprise you with them at home with a cheerful “ta-da!” (//∇//)

atsuhiro loves helping you dye your hair, and asks if you’ll dye a streak of his to match yours!!!

he always brings a pair of thick & warm socks when you guys go on walks outside in the cold, bc he knows you’re likely to be wearing flip flops. atsuhiro would rather not tell you to wear closed toed shoes because he knows you don’t particularly like authority, and instead he provides a quick and easy solution （＾∇＾）!!

[mountainsluna]

love spell

pairing: witch!wooyoung + witch!reader (as best friends)

mentions of wooyoung x seonghwa

genre: humor/supernatural

word count: 1.5k

✩ [author’s note] this is a witch/witchcraft au, i just wanna say that it is fiction and is not meant to depict the actual witchcraft community’s work! (me being apart of the community as well!) this was just written for fun so i hope you all enjoy it :) your feedback is greatly appreciated, i really want to turn this into a series so expect more stories soon!

✩ masterlist

✩ requests : check bio or masterlist ♡

This was your typical Friday night, you were sitting on your bedroom floor across from Wooyoung. Candles lit in a circle surrounding you both. Glasses of red wine on either side of you as you placed your hands on top of one another’s, eyes closed as you focused on your energies.

You two had begun meditating together like this a little after you met, realizing you could feel the other's energy a lot more clearly through it. It helped you understand each other better and it brought you closer as friends and as your two person coven.

It had been about 20 minutes of silence when you began to feel a bubbly rush through your body coming from Wooyoung, it felt sweet but you couldn’t pinpoint what emotion it was. After another minute or so you felt Wooyoung's hands lifting away from yours. You peeked through one eye to see Wooyoung levitated about a foot or two from the ground, a soft smile on his lips, legs still crossed, eyes still closed.

Ahh. He did that when he was in love. Or at least, when he thought he was.

"Uhm...Woo?" You said softly causing the boy to open his eyes, bringing to his attention the position he was in.

"Ugh...not again." Rolling his eyes in annoyance at himself as he slowly settled back onto the pillow he was sitting on.

You snorted in response, as you lifted your wine to your lips taking a small sip before gesturing to him. "Soooo?" you said awaiting his response.

Wooyoung let out a sigh as he placed his hands on the floor behind him, holding himself up.

"So....I met a boy the other day..."

You cocked an eyebrow at him expectantly.

"At the grocery store..."

"Woo..."

"No but you should've seen the way he bagged my groceries, he even asked about my dog and oh my god was he gorgeous!"

You laughed at his words, swirling the red liquid in your glass. "Wooyoung you know you were deadass buying dog food, right?"

"Yeah and?? How many cute bagger boys ask you about your dog when you go buy dog food?" Lifting his eyebrow playfully, taking a big sip from his glass.

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your hand, taking another sip. "So he was that cute huh?"

"Y/n I swear, if you saw him you'd drop your boyfriend in a second."

"Oh please, with the demon of a boyfriend I have, I've never looked twice at anyone since I met San."

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, setting down his glass as he moved closer to you. "So anyways! He ended up walking me to my car because bags are so heavy” he winked “And we may have exchanged numbers."

Your mouth fell open in shock, Wooyoung never made moves on the boys he met so this was a first. You knew now you just had to meet this grocery boy.

“Wow Wooyoung I’m proud of you! So, I’m assuming you got his name?”

“Yes, it’s Seonghwa.” His eyes practically sparkled as he said it. “Like how pretty is that? He says it means ‘to be a star’ but I think it means to be my soulmate.”

You scoffed at his lame joke, “Well lucky for you, that’s all we need.” Extinguishing the candles with the snap of your finger before walking over to your wardrobe where you kept all your witchcraft supplies. You flicked your wrist, opening your spell book, your hand hovering above it as you closed your eyes to focus, the pages began whipping until stopping on the exact spell you were looking for. A love spell.

“What do you think?” You asked, lifting the book for Wooyoung to see. 

“Ehhh...I don’t wanna force it, maybe just speed it up a bit.”

“Hmm...” you contemplated, flipping through a couple of pages with the flick of your finger. “Okay I found one that isn’t too dangerous, it’ll just enhance his true feelings a bit.” You began gathering supplies in a large bowl, setting everything down at your altar, your book following behind you. It settled in your lap as Wooyoung joined, sitting across from you.

You and Wooyoung closed your eyes as a circle of pure white light slowly began to form around you both. Once it was complete, you began setting out the supplies. Placing two pink candles in front of you, Wooyoung grabbing one and hovering his hand over it, the letters PARK SEONGHWA engraving itself onto the side. Repeating the motion on the second candle engraving his own name, JUNG WOOYOUNG.

You sprinkled rose petals around the candles and placed a small bowl of brightly twinkling moon water in front of you.

You motioned at your deck of tarot cards, the lovers and nine of cups cards shooting out into your hand as you placed the first one between the two candles. You handed the nine of cups card to Wooyoung, “Jung Wooyoung, your wish?”

“I wish to know Seonghwa’s true feelings for me.” The card levitated in his hand, before settling itself next the lovers card. You closed your eyes, holding out your hands, palm up in front of you, Wooyoung following your lead as he listened to you speak.

“Winds of the east and mind, bring Seonghwa’s thoughts to us.” A soft breeze forming around you as it blew through yours and Wooyoung’s hair.

“Fires of the south and passion, bring Seonghwa's true feelings to light.” The flames of the lit candles burning bigger and brighter than before.

“Waters of their hearts, help them find each other.” You poured some rose water into the moon water now swirling inside the bowl.

“Forces of the earth, bring their bodies together in good spirits.”

“and free will.” Wooyoung chimed.

You smiled, picking some rose petals from the ones you had sprinkled around and released them into the bowl of moon water. “and free will.“ you added, the addition of the petals causing the water to glow bright pink, a smoke of the same color now rising from the top.

“As I will it, so shall it be.” You clapped your hands after your final words, as the candles blew out. An abundance of pink smoke now enveloping the area around you two sending you both into a coughing fit as you inhaled it in. “Okay maybe we used a littleee too many rose petals.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Wooyoung’s eyes shot open at the sound of his phone ringing. The sound causing you to jump a bit in your seat before smiling at the boy who was already scrambling to his feet to retrieve his phone. The bright circle of light dissipating as he stepped away.

"Oh hey! What a surprise I wasn't expecting a call from you!" His phone hovering above his palm as he placed it on speaker for you to hear.

"Y...yeah I usually don't make calls at all but I just got this overwhelming urge to hear your voice again." You walked over to Wooyoung who had the biggest smile on his face, his mouth slightly open in shock.

"Oh I see...Well I have to admit it's nice hearing your voice again as well."

"Uhm so I was wondering if it's not too weird, if you'd let me take you on a date tomorrow night? We can grab dinner and see a movie afterwards."

You jumped with Wooyoung silently, holding in your squeals so the boy on the other line wouldn't hear. He took a deep breath fanning himself before he replied. "No no its not weird at all! I'd love to go out with you tomorrow night."

"Oh that's great, I'll text you the details...Once I figure them out. I can't wait to see you again." The poor boy really hadn't thought anything through before he called.

Wooyoung nearly passed out at his words. "I can't wait to see you either. Thanks for calling, Seonghwa."

Wooyoung hung up the phone as he threw himself onto the bed unable to contain his happiness. "Oh my god could you tell I was nervous? Did I sound nervous?" He asked, sitting up to talk to you.

"What does it matter? You have a date tomorrow night!" You poked at his side, genuinely excited for your best friend.

"I can't believe the spell worked so quick though, it was instant!"

"Either we're getting better or his feelings for you were just that strong." You said, smirking at the black haired boy before walking back to your altar to clean up.

"Or maybe it was all those rose petals." He mumbled teasingly, earning a glare from you.

"Now come help me clean up before I make you show up to your date with actual cat ears and a tail!" You said as you picked up the remnants of your spell.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes before snapping his fingers, the mess in your hands vanishing in smoke. "Okay that's done now help me pick out an outfit!...Unless you really think he'll like the cat ears and tail."

[luncalxartwork]

The Reflective Pool|Tarot Art- The Moon(XVIII)

~The Reflective Pool(The Moon-XVIII) " Within the pool will you find the gate to dreams, reflecting your joys and fear..." Wolves gather about the pool to await the rabbits return from the world beyond. They turn back to regard the viewer who has interrupted their silent vigil. One glares at you giving you a sense of fear while the other merely regards your arrival into this sacred space. Another WIP for my own Personal Tarot Card Set base off of what I would like to see in a tarot deck. I find the classic decks more Abrahamic-ly influence and it just doesn't jive with me. This is my own interpretation of the moon. I have an entire list for note on how I would like each of them to be. I had alot of inspiration from a few different sources (including Wolfwakers movie poster art) and honestly happy with it. Though now my scanner is being evil and washing out my pieces and I need to recalibrate it which is a "ding-dang" nightmare. 

Posted using PostyBirb

[cecilspeaks]

162 - “Alpha”

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Fear makes the heart grow louder. And death makes the heart grow flowers. Welcome to Night Vale.

Amelia Anna Alfaro was always the best at everything. On the day she was born, she was named the healthiest baby at Night Vale General Hospital. The doctors had never seen a healthier baby. “What a healthy baby,” they said from behind a bullet proof two-way mirror, as they operated the robotic arms that carefully held the infant aloft. The doctors high-fived each other, missing slightly. The trick, by the way, is to keep your eye on the other person’s elbow. That or glue high-powered magnets to each person’s hand. And all of the nurses cheered from dozens of feet down the hallway, where they were playing with a standard Tarot deck, common in most neonatal units. This cheering was unrelated to Amelia’s birth. The nurses had drawn the ten of swords, which is everyone’s favorite card. It features a relaxed man receiving acupuncture by a river.

Amelia learned to walk at 4 months, and to talk at 6 months. She read Plato’s “Republic” for the first time at age 4. She taught herself German and began to write sonnets in that language at age 7. At age 10, she won her first engineering competition after designing a concrete canoe that could float even on the most turbulent water. There is no body of water in Night Vale, so she had to prove her work using a software she wrote that generated three-dimensional models to corroborate her advanced mechanical physics formulas. She even won the state spelling bee five years in a row, from ages 9 to 13. Her streak was only broken when the spelling bee was canceled, after the sponsors lost their dictionary.

Amelia was always the best, and her mother knew it. Her mother was proud of her daughter, or rather, her mother was proud of herself for producing such a daughter. Or rather, she was proud of both, in a way that was difficult for them to untangle. Amelia’s mother was named Yvette. Yvette could not afford much for her daughter. She worked long hours to earn the respect of her bosses, which (-) [0:04:32] her promotions and larger paychecks, but Yvette had hit the glass ceiling. She did not want this limitation for her daughter. Her daughter would need to be smarter, more talented, and more driven than she. Yvette wanted Amelia’s value to the world to be so great that no one could deny her success.

Yvette recognized Amelia’s specialness and pushed hard to make her even more special, signing Amelia up for athletics and adult learning classes and piano lessons. Amelia sometimes pushed against this. “Mother, I don’t want to” was met with, “But you will, Amelia.” “Why?” was met with, “Because I said so.” “I hate you for this” was met with, “You will love me for it later.”

Begrudgingly, Amelia fulfilled her mother’s wishes. It wasn’t because she understood her mother’s motivation to secure her child a better life, nor was it because Amelia did not have the stomach to fight back. No, Amelia did it because it all came so easy. She was a black belt, a sharp shooter, an academic decathlon champion. She wrote her first novel at age 12, it was called “A Golden Age for Parachuting”, in which an all-Jewish female parachute team wins Olympic gold in 1936 Berlin in front of Adolf Hitler. In the publisher’s rejection letter, the editor said the novel was “immaculately written, however parachuting stories are out of vogue. Do you have anything about magical baseball players?” Amelia did. It was a novel called “One Last Swing for the Tuesday Boys”, but she had written it in German and did not have time to translate the “Dienstag Jungen” manuscript, because she was currently taking a course on bird husbandry.

Yvette enrolled the teenage Amelia in night classes at the community college, where she took English 113, “Sonnets are for lovers”; structural engineering 212, “Buttress is a funny word”; and meteorology 301, “Clouds y’all, amirite?” She earned all As and scores for college credit before she even graduated high school. None of these challenges were difficult for Amelia. She was the best at everything.

But her life was not perfect. Because of the voices. It was the voices that made life hard for Amelia. From birth, she heard the constant chatter of dozens of people. None of the voices spoke directly to  Amelia, they just talked and talked about their lives, and Amelia was afraid of the voices and what the voices might imply about herself. She found solace in puzzles, crosswords, nonograms, acrostics, cryptics, Sudoku, which I think is the one where you have to catch a bunch of marbles with a lever operated hippopotamus. Her mother hated Amelia’s puzzle vice. If she caught Amelia doing puzzles, Yvette would make Amelia go practice archery or write poetry or at least listen to classical music. Amelia’s favorite was Van Cliburn’s masterful 1961 record of Rachmaninoff’s “Piano Concerto nr 13: Knuckles on the Black Keys”. When she was thinking through the solution of a puzzle, the voices did not speak to her. All was silent. It was her only time of peace. It was the only time her body could rest and curl up comfortably into her own thoughts. Anything that took her away from her logic problems including music, no matter how soothing, invited the voices back into Amelia’s thoughts.

Amelia was accepted to several top colleges across the country, including MIT, Stanford, Rice and The University of What It Is, but she wanted to stay near her home town and her family, so she went to State. Hey, that’s where my brother-in-law went! Go State! [chuckles] Ahem. She was elected the youngest president of the student body ever at age 17, and graduated valedictorian two years later. Her friends, her professors, her mother all knew the world was Amelia’s. She could become poet laureate or a senator or a supreme court justice or a quantum physicist. But she became none of those. This is not to say Amelia was not successful or that she amounted to nothing. It is to say, the semantics of success were her own and no one else’s. Amelia became an air traffic controller. The voices never told Amelia to become an air traffic controller, they were never that specific. The voices did not tell her to do anything, they simply talked about first dates, about  apartment hunting, about their grandmothers’ improved health, about a bad movie they sort of loved. None of the voices talked directly to her, it was simply as though she overheard conversations from lives lived somewhere else. Other people and their quotidian hopes and worries and interests. She tried seeing therapists and psychiatrists. She tried medication to stop the voices, but nothing worked. Eventually she decided they were not harmful voices and that she was not dealing with schizophrenia. She simply heard people talking at all hours about all things, having nothing to do with her. And they never told her to become an air traffic controller. Amelia chose her own career, her own path. Others though the reason was that it was the fist job opportunity to present itself for her. Maybe it was her admiration of aircraft, maybe a moral sense of serving humanity through public safety and comfort. In fact, it was none of these reasons. But it should not be surprising to know that Amelia was very good at air traffic control. She was calm, clear, and efficient. The Night Vale international airport, although when Amelia started it was just a commuter hub, has never had a high volume of plane traffic and almost all of those are departures. There are very few arrivals. My husband Carlos, he’s a scientist and he is also very good at his job, tells me that it’s impossible to have far more departures than arrivals, but I told him, not everything has to make sense all the time.

So, in some ways, air traffic control in Night Vale was easier for Amelia than just about any other class or job or task she’d ever attempted. It appeared from the outside to be far below her capabilities. She held that job for 20 years, even taking over as president of the Night Vale chapter of air traffic controllers’ union. In 2004, she was featured in the cover of “Afformative”, a monthly trade magazine for air traffic controllers. The headline of the article was “You’re cleared for success”. In 2006, she was asked to deliver the keynote speech at the annual Roger Con, a conventional for air traffic controllers and fans of air traffic control. It’s a huge deal, held every year in Orlando. People dress like their favorite airline pilots and wait in long lines for autographs from top flight attendants. There are even panel discussions about everything from the best textiles for seat cushions to secret first class meal offerings. Amelia was the best at what she did. She probably would have been the best poet laureate or senator, but this was the path she chose. She chose this path because of the voices, not from what they said, but what they didn’t say. When Amelia was in the control tower, when she was communicating with captains and co-pilots and navigators, her head was clear. All was silent. It was like those many nights, sneaking a copy of the crossword from the newspaper on the kitchenette and solving it by flashlight under her covers. She became an air traffic controller to be by herself, to become her own person. Her mother was disappointed, but loved her in spite of it. Her professors were let down, but still had many fabulous of their greatest student. Her friends were just happy she was happy.

Things changed on June 15, 2012, when Delta flight 18713 made radio contact. In her tall tower, at her tiny airport, in the middle of a vast desert, in the middle of the American Southwest, an airplane appeared on Amelia’s radar. It was carrying 143 passengers and 6 crew members and was flying from Detroit to Albany over the great lakes of the American Northeast. It appeared briefly, the green dot blinking in and out of existence like the sun glinting off a water ripple. It was almost unnoticeable. But everyone noticed it. Later, Amelia was the only one who admitted to noticing it. The radio transmission was equally brief, a surge of static and only one word, difficult to discern but she heard it. “Alpha” was the single word. The letter A in the Nato alphabet. It was garbled, so maybe it wasn’t that word, maybe it was some more adult variation of “Oh fudge”. Alpha. Oh fudge. It was unclear. Amelia requested identification of the aircraft. She requested further communication, but nothing came. As soon as it had squawked, it had gone silent. But while the radio communication was silent, the voices were not. On June 15, 2012, upon hearing a word that sounded like “alpha”, these myriad conversations returned. No one else in the tower could hear them, but Amelia Anna Alfaro could. And for the first time in her life, she began to speak back to them. Everyone else in the tower could hear that. The voices did not cease. The voices continued for days and days and Amelia tried to talk back with them. As one voice said: “I have an interview on Monday,” Amelia would ask “for what job” or if a voice said, “We went to Palm Springs on vacation,” Amelia would say, “Did you also travel out to the Salton Sea?” But over and over, no response. The voices did not affect the quality of Amelia’s work, but it did affect the perceived quality of her work, and her colleagues became uncomfortable with and distrusting of Amelia.

A month later, Amelia heard that word again from one of the voices. “Alpha”. The same voice that radioed in June. But upon hearing it again, she realizes that they didn’t say “alpha” at all. What they said, coming up.

But first The weather.

[“Skinchanger” by Skeptic skepticdeath.bandcamp.com]

The voices said “Alfaro”. The word had been truncated just as the airplane’s appearance in Night Vale had been truncated. The voice saying the word was the captain of the aircraft, and he had been trying to tell Amelia something. The pilot was trying to tell Amelia that he knew her, had always known her since her birth. He didn’t know how he knew her, just that he did, and he wanted to tell her he had found her. And she should find him. “Where are you,” Amelia asked the captain. “No Where,” the voice said. “Did you land?” Amelia asked. “Yes,” the voice said. “Were there injuries?” Amelia asked. “Minor,” the voice said. “Do you hear the other voices too?” Amelia asked. “Yes,” the captain said. “I’m with them right now. Find us, Amelia.” “Where are you?” Amelia asked again, louder, more scared than before. “No Where,” the voice said, not like the vague concept of in no place but No Where, two words capitalized like the name of a specific place. Amelia felt a tap on her shoulder. It was another air traffic controller. “Uh, boss wants to see you, Amelia,” they said. But Amelia did not go to see the boss. She knew. She knew her time in the tower was done. She grabbed her belongings and walked to the elevator, out across the tarmac to a shuttle to a parking lot and into her car, and no one saw her again. Her friends said she always talked about going back to school to get an advanced degree. Maybe she went to Stanford. Or Rice, or The University of What It Is. Other friends said she had lost all touch with reality, talking to people who were not there, and maybe her mother checked Amelia into the Night Vale asylum.

Yvette says Amelia knew too much, that agents from a vague yet menacing government agency had been to their house and that Amelia must have been taken to a secret location. Representatives from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau in Washington, DC, came to Night Vale two months ago to investigate the disappearance of flight 18713. They are on an undercover mission inside the Night Vale asylum right now, on a tip from Sheriff Sam, to discover more clues into this mystery. Perhaps Amelia is in there too. But I don’t think so. I think she went to find the plane. I think the voices were the passengers on Delta 18713. I think she set out looking for them. Perhaps wandering the desert, the great No Where, to find the people who had been a part of her life since birth.

Amelia. Anna. Alfaro. was always the best at everything. And if anyone will find the plane, she will.

Stay tuned next for our new investment advice show “Billionaire Roulette”.

And as always, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Love means never having to say “you’re a werewolf”.

[oudenoida]

❦ - Changing clothes facing away, showing off their back (Ty and Luca)

Luca was under no delusions about what the house he shared with Max and Dash was like. He’d seen enough American movies to know that aside from the incredibly ordered and neat corners of it that Max was responsible for the three of them lived in something akin to a frat house; which honestly was part of the reason Luca liked it so much. But it also gave him just a tiny twinge of… was that shame? Was he even capable of feeling shame? Every time Tybalt Weymouth slept over. While he’d never been invited to the Celestial Sanctuary it was the stuff of myth, a palace hidden inside a mountain befitting the magical royalty that tread its halls, and he was very much aware of how his very messy bedroom; with tarot cards, underwear, and various drugs/alcohol scattered around it, didn’t really stack up next to “living castle”. He’d been awoken by the sensation of Tybalt sliding out of his bed and rolled over, hand automatically going to the deck of worn cards on the windowsill, drawing a single one out and looking at it. He’d thought it subsonic, but apparently his mewl of discontent at being confronted with the High Priestess reversed had caught Tybalt’s ear. 

“Not good?” 

He turned just in time to see Tybalt slide the t-shirt he’d been wearing off, revealing a broad landscape of back muscles Luca hadn’t even known you could get that toned, and he lived with a professional athlete. Words escaped him for a moment as he felt himself flush and he was suddenly glad he still had the worn quilt that was on his bed covering himself from the stomach down. On a very fundamental level Luca knew he was hot as fuck. His customers told him that, random people on the street told him that, and he told himself that on a daily basis. But he knew for all his tattooed and muscular sex appeal he didn’t hold a candle to his… whatever the fuck Tybalt was. He found the words a suddenly-half-naked Ty had stripped away from him and delivered them with what he hoped was a characteristic level of disinterest. 

“Just being yelled at by the Universe for being a bad person. So, you know. Nothing new. Or as you might say.” His voice took on a dramatically affected American accent, “Nothin’ new.” 

Ty flipped him off as he slid a collared shirt on, tugging a pair of jeans over muscular legs that Luca was now having a hazy memory of commenting on. 

“Did I tell you I wanted to wear your legs like a feather boa last night?” 

“You did. Right before I rendered you speechless for awhile.” 

Luca gave a little shiver as he looked at the upside down woman giving him a death glare from a small rectangle of cardstock. “I remember. Big fan of that, Weymouth. Big fan.” He could hear the wispy voice of Professor Trelawney in his head as he looked at the High Priestess. She means to tell you you’re not listening to your inner voice Lucas. She never had gotten his name right, When she’s reversed it’s a call to stop and breath and turn inward. What is your mind telling you, your heart telling you, that you’re trying to block out?

He slid the card back into the deck and looked up to see Ty looking down at the sweat-stained t-shirt in his hand, Trelawney still echoing in his head, “Uh I took a bunch of shit to the thrift shop the other day so there’s like… an empty drawer in the dresser if you don’t wanna like bring that to work with you or something.” It violated a pretty fundamental if unspoken tenet in their relationship; impermanence. They had existed in a neutral detente for months, a cycle of ghosting and late night hookups that they had staunchly refused to tie any sort of label too. Tybalt was well aware of what Luca did for work, and while it hadn’t come up in any sort of serious conversation Luca couldn’t image the Weymouth scion settling down in any capacity with a whore. 

The look he received was inscrutable and Luca was reminded that he was looking at a man who had been a hair's breadth away from being called Lord. “You just happen to have an empty drawer? I know how Ava shops for you, Santos. I find that hard to believe. I’ll just shove it in my bag and wash it at home tonight. Thanks though.” 

Propping himself up on one elbow to watch Tybalt put the shirt in his bag he could see the edge of the High Priestess poking out of the desk, one disapproving eye pinning him to his pillows. You have to listen, Lucas. You listen to the forces of the world very well, nobody in this class can read the cards like you can, but even you need the reminder to listen to yourself. Sometimes the most important messages don’t come from the deck, but from within. 

Ty had one hand on the doorknob, and Luca could already hear the knob turning and the hinges creaking when it finally burst out of him, far louder than he had anticipated, loud enough where Dash was sure to bring it up later, but bursting out all at once like a ruptured dam. 

“I fucking love you!” 

The doorknob stopped in its rotation but Tybalt’s back remained turned, though, if Luca was reading posture correctly, slightly more rigid than it had been previously. There was no response, no indication other than the cessation of movement that Tybalt had heard him at all and Luca swept his legs out of the bed, planting them on cold hardwood and keeping the quilt over his lap.

“I… I love you, okay? I know. I know this breaks all the rules we never talked about but we both know are there but I love you. When I wake up and you’re not here it’s a shitty morning and when I lay down and I’m alone, or really even when I’m not alone but it’s not you I don’t sleep for shit. I know. I know what we are. I know what this is. What this isn’t. But… I fucking love you. Leave the fucking shirt. Leave a bunch of shirts. Leave shirts and boxers and sweatpants and a toothbrush in a stupid cup by the sink and the smell of you on my blankets and the heat of you on my pillows. Just…. Leave something.” 

From behind him he could swear he heard the gentlest of laughter and the whisper of card against card as she slid back inside the deck but he was too focused on the stationary man in front of him to check to see. Ty’s hand drifted from the doorknob to his pocket and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against the door and breathing a quiet chuckle, “Is it part of your inherent divinatory magic where you just know exactly what’s going to throw me for a loop? I know you’re a gifted seer. Does this come with it?” 

Now it was Luca’s turn to stay silent, head low staring at the floor between his feet. He could tell whatever the outcome this was a turning point for them. Either Tybalt was going to walk out the door for the last time or something bigger was going to happen between them, but whatever forces sometimes gave him a glimpse of a possible future were criminally silent in the moment. It wasn’t until he saw a pair of shoes step between his bare feet and felt a finger tilting his chin up that he felt the blush of hope in his heart. 

“I love you too, Luca.” 

He watched as Tybalt knelt so they were at eye level, leaning forward to brush a gentle kiss to Luca’s trembling lips, “Breathe. I can hear your heartbeat from here. I’ll leave the shirt. I’ll leave the shirt and the toothbrush and the me. I didn’t know you could say that many words in a row… but I love you too. Fuck the rules. You know how I feel about rules. What rules did to my brother, to me, to our fathers. I don’t give a single fuck what rules we had between us. We’ll write new ones. But the first one is this…” The kiss deepened and they both stood, Luca leaning into the feeling of Tybalt. 

“We’re going to start saying stuff out loud. I fucking love you, you dumbass. I just can’t believe you said it first.” 

[shleezaemour]

The Shadow hunter Major Arcana

I noticed that the shadow hunter tarot did not come with a booklet. Shame, guess I’ll write one. Here is my interpretation of the major arcana of the Shadow hunter Tarot deck. I will be doing the other cards too, but that will take time. I have this section finished so here you go, enjoy!

**The fool!**

Henry Branwell ( The scientist)

Even in the picture Henry is surrounded by his cogs and gears. Always the butt of the joke, but perfectly fine with it. Henry understands that people laugh at him but he knows what he’s doing is for the greater good no matter how many times he fails. The man behind the woman, the levity in the relationship. Brings light and humor to the starkness of Charlottes personality. While he rules in logic, he can see beyond it to create what’s only ever been dreams.

**2nd Fool card!**

Tavvy and Drusilla (The dreamer & the innocent)

Drusilla dreams of glory as she is in the middle of things. She’s too young to go on adventures, and to old to really be a child. While the older kids ignore her for the most part, they don’t understand that keeping her in the dark isn’t going to keep her innocent forever. As Julian said she is the heart of the family, none of them could function without her. While she lives in fantasy with her horror movies and playing the part of secret con man, she just wants to be noticed. Tavvy being the youngest and the baby, is the perfect sign of innocence. Still wanting to be held, still needing someone to keep the nightmares away. Not quite wanting to grow up, because that would mean the nightmares were real. In the picture you see Dru carrying Tavvy, Tavvy has wings on the back of his shirt showing his innocent angelic presence. The scene is at night, showing that Dru is there for him anytime he needs.

Upright : Beginning of a journey, innocence, acting without thinking things through. Potential.

Reverse: Uncertainty, failure to seize the moment.

**The Magcian**

Magnus Bane (The warlock)

Being an immortal gives one a sense of wisdom. Magnus being around for centuries gives him a Scholarly air about him. His kindness and willingness to still trust shows that he understands that history does indeed repeat itself and trust is met with trust. Because he has been there before and bought that T-shirt, he tends to believe everything repeats itself. While it’s good to have the wisdom of seeing patterns, he forgets that occasionally things go a different direction than expected. This makes it hard for him to share his past, due to other people’s reactions to it. Which in turn makes life harder than it had to be. Magnus understands why looking back is important, and also the importance of looking to the future. Finding his true love in a man whom history in a way repeats itself. While he never loved Will Herondale he loved his coloring, now over a hundred years later he finds Alec who has all of Wills beauty being his descendant on his sisters side. Swearing to never involved himself with shadowhunters again, only to fall in love with the boy whose parents he hated and almost had him killed in their youth. Karma works in mysterious ways. In the picture you see on the side table, the book of the white, chairman meow, and Woosley Scott’s snuff box. A clear representation of past present and future.

Upright: Creativity, exploring ones abilities, crafters hands, emerging talent

Reverse: Putting ones gift to ill use, unable to learn, No imagination

**The High Priestess **

Cristina Rosales ( The Believer )

Cristina was raised to be the woman behind a great man, only to become the queen set on a pedestal by many suitors. Even after the pain and hurt caused by all the men in her life she still opens herself to love. This girl is so much woman she needs two men to satisfy her, both seelie and unseelie with a dash of shadowhunter. Strong and deadly with her feminine wiles. Though she may forgive, she never forgets. As was shown with Perfect Diego and Jaime, both forgiven, both betrayals never forgotten. Cristina will give you a second chance, but if you break it you don’t get another one. This Princess of Roses will not be taken for a fool, things will be on her terms or nothing. In the picture you see her infamous butterfly knife pointing right at the black heart. Dressed as she was on her way to fairy with her two loves. In white going against shadowhunter tradition, as is her love life.

Upright: Great Knowledge, wise beyond years, virtuous, a scholar

Reversed: Ignorance, false vision, holding back feelings

**The empress**

Emma Carstairs (The Warrior)

A woman that shows the bloodlust isn’t just a mans realm. Anything you can do she can do better, and in heels. While her search for revenge blinds her to the world around her, she knows how to be the stable rock of a relationship whether its romantic or platonic. The only one worthy of her weapon, never taking no for an answer. Blood and scars are part of her, it’s how she shows her strength and commitment. While her recklessness can get her into trouble, she will not stop until she is the best. As the leader she knows that a good ruler is because of her subjects, and that her partner is there to make her stronger. The love she has for Julian being the only thing that could break her. In strength she even tried to push him away, for his own well being. In the picture you see Emma on a throne of her own as golden as her hair. While many blade sit behind her, only one is worthy enough to be in her hand, Cortana. Her un-lady like stance in the chair shows the air of “Wanna fight about it?”

Upright: Strong female figure, fertility, Maternal

Reversed: Infidelity, home strife, infertility

**The Emperor **

Julian Blackthorn (The artist)

As the silent leader of the family , Julian knows how to make the hard calls without ever showing it was him making them. While his secrets and tricks keep him and his family safe, his constant control of everything around him can come undone in a instant and he knows it. Always the man with the plan. Julian’s ruthless heart can blind him into making poor choices, but his gentle mercy is a soothing balm that no one can turn down while in pain. Forced fatherhood hasn’t dampened him, it’s only made him stronger. Emma by his side showed his unwavering loyalty and how choosing a female Parabatai never made him a weaker man. Even his romantic love for Emma showed strength , the only thing that could make him lose all his self control. Never allowing anyone, even the law stand in his way of what he wanted. For a bad law is no law for the Blackthorn family. Julian in the picture is on a throne showing his position, with paint smeared and thrown carelessly. Showing that even those in power don’t always run the tidy ship. The belt buckle of the ram shows his stubbornness at his center.

Upright: Strong male figure, leadership, ambition, accomplishing something

Reversed: Weakness, indecision, incompetent

**The Hierophant**

Brother Zachariah (The Silent Brother)

A magical man of the cloth. Brother Zachariah traded death for life and knows sacrifice in an intimate way. Never truly changing completely on either side, his love for his parabatai and former fiancée never waver. Both his love and his form are arrested through time. Though the feelings are dulled by magic, they never truly fade. All the while learning the trades and traditions of the Silent brothers, giving him abilities and an outlook that others can’t see or comprehend. The wise one in the room. As a former addict himself he can never give up that which brings him joy, whether it’s Tessa, Will, or his violin. In the picture you see him sitting with his fingers entwines together, the mortal sword leaning against him and a skull to his right side. The skull representing his long dead parabatai Will Herondale, and the sword that makes Shadowhunter’s Tell the truth and delivering justice. Yet it’s leaning.. not directly in his palms. While Brother Zachariah believes the truth is always better, that doesn’t exactly apply to himself.

Upright: Divine, mercy, conformity, Controlling spiritual needs

Reversed: Unorthodox, poor advice, Impotence

**The lovers **

Magnus & Alec /Jace & Clary (Love)

So many types of love between these four. A twisted web of love in its purest form. Two Parabati with their partners. While Alec isn’t Magnus’s first love, he is his first shadow hunter love. The first person where marriage was an option, the only one to convince him to have children and build a real life with an actual family. Alec like most shadow hunters found his love and is sticking to it. Head over heels for the bad boy his parents never wanted for him, yet he is absolutely perfect for him. Young and old fit together neatly in a relationship neither of them have ever experienced. Bring each others firsts in so many new and exciting ways. Angels and Demons coming together in a love deeper than the realms of hell themselves. Alec’s light and dark co-mingling with Magnus’s in a Yin and Yang that finds perfect balance. Clary and Jace were touched by angels, drawing them together regardless of circumstance. Their blood singing the siren song of forbidden love, even that couldn’t keep them apart. Obstacles at every step of the way, first the possible brother/sister issue, then the magical ensorcellment, then the heavenly fire roaring in Jace’s veins. No matter how large the problem, they get through it together. Always finding a way when no path is presented, they make their own. It wouldn’t be the first time a deep love mingled between a Herondale and a Fairchild. In the picture you see both of the couples embracing. Clary and Jace facing each other, holding the other up. While Magnus holds Alec from the back, having his back always, eyes closed in a comforting bliss.

Upright: Love, Passion, union, romance, harmony

Reversed: Conflict, separation, divided.

**The Chariot**

Mark Blackthorn (The Changeling )

Mark was never just one thing, he always had a foot in both worlds. One with the Shadowhunters, and one in Fairy. Longing for the stars and winds of the skies of fairy, homesick for the family that loved him all his life. A born protector to all he loves. Self discovery showed him how his love was not just a single trunk, but all the branches that came along with it, and with that the knowledge that he could have it all. Not wanting to choose, but to have everything he wanted was a struggle worth the burden. Allowing his differences be the reason that he shines. Eyes dual colored for both the worlds he belonged, two worlds, two loves, both within reach. Both worlds bringing him Bliss as well as torment. Shadowhunting meant he would never truly be excepted because of his fairy blood, his bisexuality also driving their acceptance further away. The runes call to his blood, the fight within him singing to rid the world of demons as his mandate. Marks family never wavering in their love for him no matter the circumstances. Fairy being equally as cruel for stealing his childhood, torturing him physically and mentally for his being a half blood. Finding love and wonder in his lover Kieran. The freedom of the hunt, the ability to feel what he wanted to feel without prejudice. Mark Blackthorn has the ability to change his direction to what suits him best, driving his life forward in the way of true happiness. In the picture you see him with two dogs of the hunt, by his side and fierce as he is with his bow and arrow. Fairy clothes and runes both adorning his body showing his dual life.

Upright: A Journey to new places, boldly venturing into the unknown

Reversed: Ruined plans, bad strategy

**Justice**

Jace Herondale (The Angel)

The golden Ichor that inflamed his veins as a child changed our hero. From his golden eyes to his unwavering abilities that go far beyond normal Shadowhunter standard. The law is hard, but it’s the law. While Jace finds loopholes and ways to have the law work in his favor, he never truly breaks it. A true believer in his mandate to rid the world of demons and their ilk. Even being disgusted by the very idea that he might have been tainted with demon blood was almost to much for him to bare. Wielding a blade to protect innocent and good, his wit and charm are the only equal to his deadly prowess. Jace knows their is more than one way to fight, more than one way to win a battle. The perfect soldier, born and bred to fight for the angel. Special talents only equal to his girlfriend, who also shares his angel blood. Pure love drives his motivations, for both Clary and his Parabatai Alec. Finding family in both of them, being a good brother and partner above all else. Even being raised in evil, his natural good nature shines through... even if it is tipped with sarcasm. In the picture you see him as an angel, as Clary drew him in her sketchbook. A lion to his side showing he is the king of the jungle, the alpha male with a golden mane to rule his pride and bring order around him.

Upright: Balance, Strong sense of self, Fairness

Reversed: Poor character, abuse, taking sides, biased.

**The Hermit**

Tiberius Blackthorn (The genius)

Even being born into the world with a twin, Ty has always had a sense of loneliness. Of feeling separate. Everything is to intense, too colorful, too loud, too much! Autism isn’t something known in the Shadow world, and because of that it’s looked at as set apart. Just because Ty is different, doesn’t mean he is condemned. Seeing the world through special eyes, seeing what others don’t. Drawn to routine, study, and Sherlock Holmes he finds a way to exist in this world of chaos with the help of his trusty headphones blaring Classical music. While he loves his twin more than the world itself, he still only found solace in Kit Rook. Someone who never saw him as anything but awe inspiring. An instant connection in a world of constant rejection. While Ty likes to be alone, he most wants to be alone with someone else in the room. No real interaction, just having them there so they can be alone together. In the picture you see the books stacked, the only one you can read is the codex, meaning the rules and tradition plays a large part in this reading. But it’s not the first book, while it’s in the mix many other tomes and knowledge comes before that. The moth in the corner shows transformation and signs of change. While not as exquisite as a butterfly, it has its own beauty that is unique all on its own.

Upright: Solitude, Exile, Out cast, seeming alone time, Secrecy, Hidden knowledge

Reverse: Social, At one with the community, seeking friends or love

**The Wheel Of Fortune**

Luke and Jocelyn (The Destined)

Lovers finally coming full circle. They have a tendency to get in their own way, assume things that are not true. Selflessness kept them apart for to long, finally coming full circle they find what’s always been there, love and eachother. Both seduced by the same man, both seeing him for what he was around the same time. Their minds were always on the same brain wave, and even long believed prejudice couldn’t keep them from the other. Luke would follow her anywhere, and Jocelyn could find him even if he didn’t want to be found. The circle brought them together, just for them to go full circle back to eachother. Forever destined, the angel and the wolf. In the picture you see Jocelyn above Luke, on the pedestal in which he placed her. The circle behind them both representing their start and end. The runes on their arms were the connection tunes between downworlder and shadowhunter. The runes on the circle are angelic power, strength, and voyance.

Upright: Fortune, chance, Fate, destiny

Reversed:Unfortunate events, unexpected results

**Strength**

Charlotte Branwell (The leader)

The first female consul, the pillar of strength in the London institute and enclave. Even being referred to as “the gray mare is the better horse in that race.” While her husband placed himself below her, he is not threatened by her. Henry loves that his wife is in charge and running everything around him, taking the pressure off of him so that he can follow his dreams. Charlotte would never cast out anyone who had no place to go, regardless of her opinion of them. While her build is small and birdlike, most people forget that about her because she demands the room. A personality and sense of authority that makes her appear six feet tall. In the picture she stand between two pillars. She is her own pillar of her community, standing between the other two that hold up her people. The law and protecting the world from evil. While she upholds both, she also stands between them understanding that there are gray areas in this world of black and white.

Upright: Strength, Endurance, power from within yourself.

Reverse: Weakness, defeat, surrender

**The hanged man**

Will Herondale (The cursed man)

Will thought himself to be cursed by the demon his father kept in his study. The demon killed his sister with a sting and then lied and tricked him, making him believe he couldn’t let anyone love him or they would die. This caused him to push everyone away, except Jem. Jem was the exception because he was already fated to die, so Will believed the curse wouldn’t touch him. This belief made him secretive, a liar, and secluded him from all around him. That was until Tessa came into his life and gave him purpose to try to rid himself of the curse that was never actually on him. Five years of self hatred did it’s damage, with Jem and Tessa being the only chance for redemption. Magnus, a Warlock, his only means to find out the truth, changing a young mind about the down world forever. In the picture you see Will upside down twisted in shadow, invisible bonds that keep him in place, but don’t actually exist or have actual power to keep him bound, only his own belief that they do is what keeps him trapped.

Upright: Opportunities missed, keeping ones self in indecision, letting time pass by

Reversed: Wasting time, lack of progress, feeling stalled

**Death**

Johnathan Morgenstern ( Death)

A boy who didn’t even have a chance before his own birth. Damned to be a soulless being before even feeling love and light. His own father created him this way, and he resented him from keeping any chance of redemption open for him. Evil was natural, and while Love was not lost on him it was tainted. An unnatural love for his own sister, a longing to keep what is his in his own mind. Feeling possession over people, forcing them to love and accept him. Deep down inside is the real boy, the good shadowhunter that never got to thrive. In a constant cycle of change and transformation. Conceived innocent, transformed with demon powders in gestation, shaped and molded in childhood, finally to die and see the spark of what could have been. Johnathan is all about changing one thing into another, moving forward, becoming better. In the picture you see him holding the infernal cup, the very thing that is change. The instrument that makes the endarkend. You see his sword on his hip with 4 stars lining the hilt, four being a magical number (example 4 seasons, four stages of life etc.) also he’s wearing his bracelet that reminds him of whom he is, keeps him grounded. Skeletal creatures surround him because eventual death surrounds him (or the death of plans). Red blood spatters the card, red being a scared color for supernatural, spiritual, or in shadowhunter culture to bring an enchantment down.

Upright: Change, metamorphosis, loss, end of ways.

Reversed: Bad situations, turbulent change.

**Temperance**

Jem Carstairs (The musician)

The addict, Wills own cracked mirror, Tessa’s second love. While Jem has his own problems, he tends to be the one people lean on. While he is this driving force in the back of his mind, he wants others to come first. Not really an optimist, but a realist. Instead of growing bitter over his parents deaths and his forced addiction, he chooses to see the bright side of it. Because of those things he found Will, he found Tessa. Two driving forces in his life that supersede the Yin Fen. Bringing balance to all their lives regardless of timeline. His love for Tessa and Will are equal in strength. Having the patience and dedication to love Will, even when Will pushes everyone away. Giving Tessa his energy and deep caring, his music and combining of both Bass and Treble as shown in the picture. Also in the picture is poppies, a death flower, which Jem is always on the brink of. While his violin is pictured close to his heart (Tessa) the bow that makes the sound ring out is by his side (Will). Neither of any real use without the other, and both useless without Jem.

Upright: Patience, Balance, Channeling ones energy, combining elements to make something new

Reversed: conflict, bad combinations, excess

**The Devil**

Valentine (The Zelot)

Valentine was not always the evil man he became, he was once the good son. Much like the devil he fell from grace after his father was killed by werewolves. Thus starting the natural obsession inside him to seek revenge for his father and beginning his hatred of Downworld. With the charisma of a cult leader he did just that by establishing “The circle” bringing the best and brightest by his side to get his obsessions fed. Get in his way, and he will make sure you fall with him. He is not without love or even loyalty, but like his son he sees those he created as possessions. Things that belonged to him. Jace was his perfect soldier, even mourning him after he knew he couldn’t keep him around and stabbed him. Clary, his daughter who can create runes because of his experimentation. Valentine did everything he could think of to bring her closer to him, even fooling her and Jace into thinking they were brother and sister. Jocelyn was his wife in his mind regardless of where she was or how long they had been apart, her hatred for him was temporary in his mind, she would come around eventually or so he thought. In the picture you see him holding the mortal cup, his key to his obsession. The chains surround him, even one choking him. One gold, one black, one silver. Mortals, Downworld, and shadowhunters. The Downworld being the one choking him, for Magnus stated that he and other warlocks were chained to this life by a chain of gold. His hatred for them was his downfall.

Upright: Oppression, material bondage, obsessive desires, evil fantasies.

Reversed: Unwavering pursuit, greed, mind control

**The Tower**

Isabelle & Alec Lightwood (The soldiers)

Here we have the two eldest of the lightwoods, strong as they face danger, both extremely and deeply damaged as siblings. Alec, afraid of his own sexual identity. Always feeling like the one left behind, never destined to shine. His father making his home life a cage, suffocating him with the mold of what a true nephilim should be. Izzy, a born warrior that’s terrified of commitment. Love is to make yourself weak in her eyes. Men are below her and would only step on her toes. Her mother damaged her by sharing adult problems with a child. Telling her of her fathers infidelity, making her lose faith in love and commitment. Both born into greatness only to fall because of personal issues. Yet if hey fall, they fall together. Always having the others back. In the picture you see Alec behind his sister, where every man in her life is placed. Alec sees it as having her back Incase of danger. Alec at the ready with a crossbow, Izzy while having her whip I hand does not have it out to strike as Alec does. Izzy is winking at the viewer, letting us know her place. The church in the background is being struck by lightning right at the cross, showing how both their faith was shaken.

Upright: Abrupt change, Accident or Loss, Ruin, traumatic event, upheaval.

Reverse: redundancy in life, unable to break patterns in life, sad events.

**The Star**

Tessa Gray (The masked)

Tessa was not aware of the circumstances of her birth, believing she was a mundane for the beginning of her life. Only to find out that she was the daughter of a Prince of Hell, a greater Eidolon Demon, and an unmarked shadow hunter. With the help of a spirit of an angel locked in her mothers necklace she was able to be born into this world as a new race entirely, not quite warlock, not quite shadowhunter. Her ability to shapeshift unlike any seen before her, the ability to connect with the persons soul through objects. All the while being able to flip through their memories unknowing to them. Always trying to break from control. Mortmain, her brother, the dark sisters, the clave, all trying to control her in some way. Escaping into novels to keep her inner demons at bay. Doing everything she can to seize control of her own life, even if it meant giving it up. She would be no ones puppet, she is her own and belongs to herself. Taking her new found gifts and trying her best to turn the darkness inside her around and use it for good. In the picture you see Tessa I’m a veil, masking her true face to navigate the world while still holding onto it and herself. Black and white stars around her, good and evil, truth and lies, and she remains in the middle with the veil staying gray. The clockwork angel the only thing unmasked about her.

Upright: Hope, a sign of good things, fulfillment in life’s pleasures.

Reversed: Doubting ones ability, stale creativity.

**The moon**

Maia Roberts & Jordan Kyle ( The lycanthropes)

A tempestuous relationship, not born to last. As the moon sets every night these two had their time only for it to be cut short. While death intimately took Kyle, Maia was close to ending things before that even happened except death beat her to it. While she loved Kyle, she knew like the phases of the moon they are ruled under that things had to change. Maia needed her own space to become a pack leader, and Jordan would have kept her as a Beta when she was a born Alpha. Jordan didn’t want to see it, all he could see was a wrong he did and the need to fix it. Him being the reason she was changed in the first place. Joining the Prater Lupus to become worthy of her love and regiment himself into someone better. Jordan wanted to help, wanted to mend, not seeing that you shouldn’t try to fix what’s not broken in the first place. Trying to convince himself that his relationship was working, that all his atonement was worth the struggle. You see them in the picture facing eachother on a bed. Maia looking at the viewer, while Jordan is fixed on Maia herself. The wolves above them showing their changing shapes, yet Maia’s is higher than Jordan’s and has the look of a leader. Jordan’s is panting and below her awaiting to follow.

Upright: brainwashing, dark influences, trickery, illusion, subconscious control

Reverse: avoiding reality, lies and despair, strange forces, delusional

**The sun**

Simon Lewis (The daylighter)

Simon, being the only person alive knowing what it’s like to live in the three different societies. First a mundane, then a daylighting vampire, then a shadowhunter. Simon has this way of fitting into each as if he were born to it, not without hard work. Clary’s best friend and Parabatai, Simon always finds a way to save the day. Whether it’s coffee and comics, or giving up your immortality in a demon realm to save everyone you love, Simon always makes things better. The only man to tame the reckless heart of Izzy Lightwood. The one who brought the Dregs and Elites at the academy together. The one to win Clary’s eternal love (platonically). Wherever Simon is, he belongs. The only one who doesn’t know that... is him. In the picture he is where he was always meant to be even though he was a vampire once, the sunlight.

Upright: successful social relationships, friendship, engagement, happy times and pure joy.

Reversed: separation, loneliness, unstable relationship

**Judgement**

Livia Blackthorn (The protector)

The other more femme half of the Blackthorn twins. Everything her twin lacks she’s has in spades, as is the reverse. Growing up knowing her brother was a slightly different kind of shadowhunter, Livvy always stood by his side and acted as his personal bodyguard. Willing to even slay her eldest brother to protect him. Livvy wants the best for everyone, she wants everyone to be happy. From wanting to set her brother Julian up, to giving up a possible romance due to her brother having more of a bond to said possible romance partner. She just wants everyone to get what they deserve, even if it’s death. Even her death. She didn’t want to be brought back, but she saw how much her brother needed her. So instead of punishing him away she stayed. She would make sure his dreams were fulfilled so that he could possibly live without her one day, something she should have done in life. In truth she knows that may never happen, while it’s a win for Ty... it’s a punishment for her. In the picture you see Livia in the dress she was buried in. Her trusty saber behind her back just Incase justice is to be served once more, or ty needs back up. Three blades are in the picture for what I interpret as past, present, and future.

Upright: accountability for ones actions, new beginnings, awakening

Reversed: guilty feelings, fearful of death, worry, delay, fear.

**The World**

Clary Fray (the creator)

Growing up thinking she was mundane, clary has grown and fought her way to shadow hunter hero. Clary went from drawing pictures, to creating runes not of the gray book to make her race stronger. Stubborn and small, strong and reckless. She wants to prove that she is more than she seems and always seems to find her way coming full circle. The center of the mortal instruments saga and of the world of her boyfriend Jace. Both with extra angel blood singing in their veins, drawn together by heaven itself. This pocket sized vixen is going to make her mark, or rune on the world. In the picture you see her with a falcon on one side and a lioness on the other. The falcon representing Jace, always by her side and equally as deadly. Sitting on the lioness as it represents herself. The woman in the pack that is more vicious than the man, the one who brings home the prey and takes it down.

Upright: completion of a cycle or journey, triumph, good outcome over adversity, hard fought victory.

Reverse: frustration, incomplete endeavors, failed projects.

[stray-wanderer]

Whoops I forgot to post yesterday, so today I'll combine days 12 and 13 from the Newbie Devotee Challenge

Day 12 Reflection

I definitely feel as though I have come to know Poseidon a lot better than I did when I first began this challenge, but there's still a long road ahead that I'm excited to wander down learning more about him and getting know Poseidon. I've felt his presence and have a better idea of what it feels like to know he's listening or visiting for a moment. One thing I've definitely seen change is my sleep habits, normally I'm a no lights no noise sleeper, but since beginning to work with Poseidon I've actually found myself preferring to fall asleep to the sound of the ocean or a storm.

Day 13 Write a poem- maybe I shouldn't have done this right before bed? Oh, well here we go.

Poseidon Found

Poseidon found me.

Poseidon found me with a toy horse when I was but a child and said, this one will come to me.

Poseidon found me in his enormous ocean and watched as I begged for stronger waves. He watched me challenge his domain.

I'd wondered then, if such a god could see me, what would he think? Would he be quick to anger and send me back to the shore?

Now I see instead of fury, Poseidon returned my letter with waves mighty like a push, there was no anger, in face I dare say he was proud of my audacity.

Poseidon found me in a camp surrounded by horses he watched while Apollo read over my shoulder while I wrote my first poem. Poseidon found I could write endlessly about the beauty of his creation.

Poseidon found me on an empty trolley rushing to get home I was still a child then, but Fate stepped in. In my fear and angst I wished Hermes could lend me his sandals, to let me get home quick. Poseidon knew it wouldn't be long until I found him.

Poseidon found me praying to Athena at my first spelling bee. They watched me take back a prayer after someone asked if I feared be stricken by lightening. I feared they'd think me a coward and turn their back on me after my silent apology, but they didn't. Poseidon knew even then exactly who I'd be.

Poseidon found me confused and shuffling a deck of tarot cards. He smiled and laughed as Hermes played a few tricks on me. He watched as I asked who he could be. There were no cards pulled for Poseiodn god of the sea. Every guess pulled me further away from him. He looked down at me, 'oh, I'll make her see.'

I found Poseidon in a dream and as I write see I'll continue to find him again and again, for the path I walk has been forged just for me.

Thank you Poseidon.

P.s. this gif is an accurate representation of what I used to do whenever I watched the DreamWorks movie Spirit, I'd even open my arms wide for the big jump scene.

[thecloserkin]

fic rec: in fire, in ice by moirariordan

fandom: Wizards of Waverly Palace

pairing: Justin Russo/Alex Russo

word count: 25k

Is it canon: Yes

Is it explicit: No

Is it endgame: Yes

Is it shippable: Like fire

It’s an on-the-run story! Where they get fake married! For real this fic is #sibcestgoals. It’s justifiably the most widely read and influential fic in the fandom, whose influence transcends the fandom itself: the tagline ought to be “come to the dark side, we have incest-flavored cookies.” Say you had a friend who had never read a word of fanfiction in their life. For a starter pack you would hand them something like The Shoebox Project, right? Something accessible, for a pairing that’s ludicrously shippable, something that would rip their heart out and leave them aching for more. That’s what this story is. I would have no qualms recc’ing it to anyone on the street. Just look at the testimonials on Fanlore or on the TVTropes rec page —these people can’t all be incest shippers right?

Wizards of Waverly Place was a teen sitcom that aired from 2007-2012 on the Disney Channel, starring Selena Gomez and David Henrie as the titular brother-and-sister wizards. They have parents and a younger brother too but for shipping purposes Justin/Alex is the six-ton orca whale in the room. Justin is two years older, boring and responsible; Alex is the wild child. There’s a lot of banter and a lot of snark and it’s that dynamic where the older male does everything by the book and the younger female character categorically refuses to even crack open the spine of a book. There was a made-for-TV movie in 2009, and 87% of people who caught it while channel-surfing came away under the impression that the male lead was Selena Gomez’s boyfriend. I know this because I conducted a highly scientific poll, obviously.

Let me say upfront that I love this story but every time I read it it’s like I just watched Schindler’s List. It’s literally a story about a wizard Holocaust.

It starts with an old man who accidentally torpedoes the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy (or the in-universe equilavent). It’s important to emphasize how he gives the game away, which is by conjuring a specter of his dead wife, one that unfortunately winds up outliving him; when the police broke his door down they found her weeping over his corpse. He loved her so much he preferred a flimsy facsimile over the lack of her. Or is it that he loved her so little he would settle for a cheap echo? Either way, love is the downfall of the wizarding community. The tension between love and magic is at the heart of this fic, for love is about sacrifice and at its root, so is magic.

The muggles’ initial reaction is consternation. The dead old man was unfortunately in possession of an extensive and illegal magical library, and pretty soon “every New Age hippie who ever read a deck of tarot cards” descends on New York City to pore over it. Consternation turns to fear turns to anger/mistrust turns to outright persecution of wizardkind.

Alex keeps waiting and waiting for someone to do something, to stop it, to make it go away, but nothing happens.

Alex is still in high school. There are people out there every day braying for her blood and calling for her family’s heads on spikes. Plot happens.

“Is this a good thing?” she asks, because Justin always knows what’s good and right and what’s not, and she really needs to know. He’s silent for a very long moment. “I don’t know,” he says, and for some reason this is more terrifying than anything.

She’s relied on Justin all these years to be her moral compass and when he admits he’s at a loss her whole world crumbles. They’re not canonically codependent, I think, but Alex does a lot of shit she wouldn’t otherwise if she wasn’t relying on Justin to bail her out. Likewise Justin resents how Alex’s raw gumption allows her to brazenly bluff her way through stuff he has to work his tail off for. I think Justin gives himself less credit than he deserves because Alex is right, he is insanely smart and talented. There’s an actual no-word-of-a-lie witchhunt going on and Justin still manages to graduate valedictorian.

There’s an underground railroad of sorts that smuggles wizards out, endowing them with new identities and new memories. The Russos grow desperate after Justin and Alex’s mom falls pregnant, but for plot reasons they can’t all be relocated so Justin and Alex stay behind. There are tearful farewells. The plan is to wait until Alex finishes high school, then rejoin the rest of the family. Things get even darker, but Justin “makes her smile like it’s his job.” LIKE IT’S HIS JOB. My friends, this is the good shit right here.

They eat in his room, most of the time, and do homework. Alex knows that he finds it soothing.

It’s a ritual, don’t you see? Other people meditate; Justin does homework. Alex does it too to keep him company. In fact Alex spends a lot of time in Justin’s bed. She’s always falling asleep there or waking up there and it’s not sexual but it gives you an idea of where her head’s at. Once, she slams out of the living room during an argument, and after a disorienting moment realizes it’s not her room she’s retreated into, it’s Justin’s. Her subconscious has obviously decided Justin’s room is the safest sanctuary there is.

Justin takes her out to dinner to celebrate her grades

IT’S A DAAAAATE only neither of them know it yet haha!

When Alex’s lifelong BFF announces she’s joining the Youth Nazi and invites Alex to join up with her, Alex runs away to a bench in Central Park. Justin shows up in short order:

“How’d you find me?”

“Are you kidding? You always come here when you’re upset.” He sits next to her. “Remember the time you ran away when Mom and Dad wouldn’t let you get a ferret?”

Nobody is conflating the pain of being denied a potential pet ferret to the pain of being deemed subhuman by one’s best friend, but the point of this scene is (1) that Justin gets her, in all her melodramatic over-the-top pettiness, and (2) Justin notices and remembers which bench she prefers — it’s a big gorram park after all. Eventually the political situation comes to a head and Justin and Alex decide it’s not safe to stay in New York City any longer, and they gather up their cash and bounce. Once they leave they have no way of getting back in touch with their parents but they have no choice; it’s too dangerous to stay:

They sleep in cheap motels and pay in cash under fake names, staying under the radar as much as possible because they’re not sure what else to do. They run out of cash in Maryland and get a decent hotel room under the fake account name.

They stop in Indianapolis to celebrate Justin’s twentieth birthday. Alex scores some champagne with one of the fake IDs she’d snagged before leaving New York and they drink it in a hotel room, the TV off and knees touching on the bed

They make it to Denver and get a small apartment and tell everyone they’re newlyweds and Alex dyes her hair red

OMG THEY’RE FAKE MARRIED I AM DECEASED

p sure there was also blink-and-you’ll-miss-it bedsharing in the hotel room

Alex’s hair color is a solid proxy for her state of mind

They save half their money each month in case they have to run again, and for a little bit, things are kind of nice. After her shifts, Alex will walk to the library where Justin works and sit at a table behind the corner with him, reading history books and novels.

Ladies and gentlemen I give you Alex Russo, the girl who a few months ago wouldn’t know which end of a book was up. She learns to love BOOKS and LIBRARIES on JUSTIN’S account and that is everything. Well, this is a nice respite but it doesn’t last and they have to keep running because Alex is assaulted at her waitressing job by a creepy customer who won’t take no for an answer. It’s a highly unrealistic stranger-in-a-dark-alley attempted assault situation but I will let that slide because the point is she instinctively spews magic in self-defense, which of course will bring the authorities down on them in no time. She’s scared shitless and she runs straight into Justin’s arms, the only place she feels safe:

Justin nearly freaks when he sees her, dragging her into the back office and touching her face, her arms, over and over as if to reassure himself that she’s okay. He sees the scrapes on her back and frowns, pulling off his soft cotton jacket and wrapping it around her as she explains what happened in a monotone voice. “We have to go,” she says, “tonight.” He nods and kisses her nose. “You did what you had to do,” he says, and something tight unravels because he’s not mad.

There is so much tenderness in that nose kiss. I feel like they’ve been partners for a long time but this is where it really clicks that Justin’s not “in charge” anymore, he’s not the older brother who knows best, they’re just two teenagers clinging to each other on a life raft because they are everything the other has left.

“The baby must be three years old now,” Alex muses. The champagne they’re drinking isn’t nearly enough to get them wasted, and she suddenly wishes that they were the type of people who get drunk. “Max is fifteen. In high school.”

This made me so sad, how they used to be a five-person family unit and now Alex and Justin are cut adrift and they’ve formed a unit of their own but they’ll never stop missing the others.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you with straight hair since New York,” he says when she emerges from the bathroom. He flicks her bangs away from her face. “You usually look like a street urchin.”

All the hairstyle changes for disguise purposes but she’s still his sister underneath. He’d know her anywhere. Here’s the scene where they first kiss — they’re standing on their own doorstep, having gone out to celebrate his birthday, and Alex (as you would expect) initiates it:

He narrows his eyes at her and she looks, looks, because she can’t have read this wrong – no, she didn’t. There is nothing in the world that she knows better than Justin – his face, his body, his head, his mind, his heart.

Yesssss I need it like air. Later:

(They don’t talk about what happened on his birthday, but they’ve started asking for single rooms.)

Eventually they settle in rural Italy, which I guess doesn’t have the same 24-hour surveillance panopticon that we have here in the USA so it’s easier for wizards to slip through the cracks. I like to imagine them in in the Tuscan hills. Justin is a schoolteacher and Alex a graphic designer. They remain for many years below the radar, until Alex is recruited into the Resistance to help smuggle other wizards out through the Underground Railroad the same way she and Justin were smuggled out. She feels a moral obligation to do it, even if it kills Justin to watch her diving repeatedly into danger and him unable to follow.

She’s never been that great at protecting people, she knows. When she was seven and Justin was nine, there’d been a bully that lived in the apartment  building across the street who used to try and steal her lunch money every day, and every day she would offer Justin’s in return for her own relief. When she was twelve and he was fourteen, they broke Theresa’s glass statuette from Barcelona during a fight and she blamed him without a second thought, and when she was seventeen and he was nineteen, she let him pass up freedom in order to protect her and she will never forget all that he gave up the day he made that decision.

Alex’s great grief is that Justin has given up an assuredly brilliant future, in which he would have shone as a superstar and had his pick of careers, in exchange for being hers.

“You’re so smart, and grown up and good and – and handsome, and I’m irresponsible and immature and –“

She sees his being with her as a sacrifice. She doesn’t know anything about sacrifice yet. She finds her parents living in the same apartment in New York they fled so many lives ago. They’re waiting for Justin and Alex to come back, or send word, or something. It exposes them to an acute degree of risk, of course. Alex orchestrates the Resistance mission to evacuate/relocate her parents, but she does not reveal herself nor reconnect with them. She lets them go. It’s unclear why, although I suspect it would be tough to have a relationship with them without dealing with the elephant in the room, the fact that she and Justin are now together. Yet I think it was important for her to see her parents one last time, because it gave her closure. After she returns to Italy she and Justin welcome their first child. The baby is a mini-dynamo and a nexus of magical potential, sending up trails of rainbow sparks even in utero, so Alex makes the painful decision to give up her powers for good. This means she will be mortal, and so will the child, and any future children or grandchildren. It also means she and Justin will be allowed to stay under the radar and hang onto the life they have painstakingly built. Remember how I said that the root of both love and magic is sacrifice? This is the sacrifice that defines Alex Russo, that she was willing to give up magic -- the thing that has shaped her identity for twenty-odd years -- in order to be with Justin.

[collinsportmaine]

The Silent Movie Tarot Card Deck

[welcometophu]

Missed Fortunes: Crosses 6

Twinned Book 2: Missed Fortunes

Crosses 6

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Kit’s waiting outside the building when Carolyn arrives for their lunch session with Pawel. There’s a faint sheen on his forehead, as if he’s run across campus to get there. “Lab sucked,” he says, holding open the door for her.

“Sucked because things went wrong, or it was just a struggle to get out on time?” Carolyn asks. The crowds are gone, fled into classrooms in time for noon, while Kit and Carolyn have been struggling to get to Pawel’s promptly on Wednesdays. She can smell Chinese food from somewhere, and she hopes that’s their lunch. Her stomach whines.

“It was a longer lab than we had time for, the slides were murky, and my partner is an idiot.” Kit wears an unhappy scowl. “He doesn’t like to wait and pay attention to anything, which means we did one part of the lab three times before we could get it right.”

“Can you switch partners?”

“Probably not.” Kit pauses, his hand where the knob for Pawel’s door should be. It’s slightly open, voices coming from the inside.

“Is your family all right?” Pawel asks.

“Mom is.” Drea’s voice, thin and tight. “Dad’s… he’s Dad. I’m not sure he’s ever going to be exactly all right again. He’s been off-balance since Orson died.”

Carolyn nudges the door open, steps past Kit. “Drea?”

Pawel blinks at them, a cardboard take-out pint in his hand, chopsticks sticking out. “Come on in, grab food. We might not get much done today. Did you find partners?” He holds up one hand before they can answer. “Yes/no question, no details needed yet.”

“Yes,” Carolyn and Kit say in tandem.

“Good.” Pawel motions to Drea and Alaric, who stand tight together, Alaric’s arm around his sister’s shoulder. “Go on.”

“He was as good as feral,” Alaric says quietly, voice rough. “Our mother had to forcibly call him back from the wolf. He’s been spending more and more time as the wolf in particular; this is not behavior for Clan as young as he is.”

“And usually when Clan get old, they don’t get dangerous. Dad’s hallucinating,” Drea says flatly. “There wasn’t any sign of someone being there. Mom said the place smelled like dust and death, same as always. He claimed that someone had been there. If there was, I don’t know how they got in or out, and they didn’t leave enough of a scent for mom to detect.”

“The place reeks,” Alaric mutters. “She might not have noticed.”

“You have a point.”

Kit nudges the door closed, pushes the one free chair to Carolyn before finding a place where he can lean against a bookcase. Carolyn shakes her head, ignoring the chair.

“What happened?” she asks.

“Dad smelled magic and an intruder in this old abandoned house on our property,” Drea explains, hands moving as she speaks. “Mom said it was the middle of the night and he woke up from a sound sleep, turned into a wolf before he was out of the bed, and raced off. She followed him, but by the time she got there, he was alone, tearing the place apart with his teeth.”

“It’s the old Berman place,” Alaric says, which means nothing to Carolyn. She looks to Kit, who looks back at her and shrugs his confusion. “It’s where we took the shadow we caught. So he could interrogate it, and it’s where he lost it.”

“Oh.”

“The family that owned it disappeared years ago,” Drea adds. She rubs at her skin, as if she’s trying to scratch something off. “It does stink like death and decay.”

“The shadow loved it,” Pawel murmurs, writing something down. “But then, it is a death stalker.”

“Dad thought maybe it came back,” Drea says quietly. “Mom thinks he’s losing his mind. I think she’s afraid she’s going to lose him to the wolf.”

“He’s a wolf,” Carolyn echoes softly. Because she remembers the teeth, the sheer anger. She could imagine it ripping through the countertop, pulling up floorboards to get to her. She could easily imagine it tearing an entire house apart after she disappeared. She looks at the palms of her hand, the almost invisible remnants of scrapes still there. “I had this really weird dream about a wolf the other night?”

Pawel’s gaze snaps to her. “You did?” He gestures at the chair, and when she doesn’t sit, he points again. “Tell me about it.”

She’s aware of their eyes on her, aware that she never mentioned this to Drea or Kit, who probably both wonder why she kept it to herself. But it was easier to forget it, put it aside and let it go. Heather and Nikita are already too interested in it as it is.

“I’d had a rough night—the cards weren’t really working for me.” She doesn’t look at Kit for that. “So the cards were on my mind when I went to sleep. I was frustrated and confused, and I knew I still needed to get my work done for this project, so that’s why it was right there for the dream. And it started out with the Tower crumbling.”

“The Tarot card,” Pawel murmurs, writing something down.

Carolyn nods. “The card, yeah. And I was falling, then I caught a deck of cards, and I pulled one out, and it was the Wheel of Fortune, and I ended up on a Ferris Wheel. And when I thought that was going to break apart, I pulled another card, and I ended up in this old abandoned farmhouse.” Her stomach rumbles, but she ignores the bag of food waiting for them to dig in. “I was looking around and it was creepy. Snowing outside, wind whistling, cold. I heard a wolf howling, and I wanted to get away. I was terrified, and I couldn’t go anywhere, and I was panicking. So I went back and pulled another card and it wasn’t a Tarot card at all. It was a picture of my room back in PHU. Which is when the wolf—and it was a giant wolf—burst through the door and came at me. I fell back, dropped the little bit of light I’d managed to conjure, and then it was like I fell through the card and fell off my bed and landed next to it on my hands and knees. I woke Heather up.”

“That’s a hell of a dream.” Pawel never stops writing, never looks up. But the others are all watching her. Staring at her.

Carolyn curls her fingers around the scrapes on her palm. “It was just a weird dream. A coincidence.”

“Mm.” Pawel looks over at Alaric and Drea. “Can I contact your mother? I’d like to talk to her about Theobald’s condition. I’m concerned that he’s been getting worse since he was in contact with the shadowwalker.”

Alaric’s watching Carolyn. She bites her lip; his nostrils flare and she looks away, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, you’ve got her number already, right?” Drea says. “She’s probably not going to be thrilled about talking to a Mage, but she’s worried about Dad, too. I can hear it in her voice. She’ll be more interested in him being sane than in worried about how magic’s going to corrupt her life.”

Pawel scratches notes furiously. Carolyn feels like she shouldn’t be here, but she can’t move since she hasn’t been dismissed yet. Even though her meeting hasn’t really begun, either.

“Heather? Thorne?” Pawel asks, pulling over another piece of paper to write on it.

“Yes,” Carolyn responds, Kit’s response slightly slower this time, as if he had to think about the answer.

“We’ll meet tomorrow.” Pawel nudges the bag of delivery closer to Carolyn and Kit. “Take the lunch. Go eat and get to your classes. I need to call Alia. Be prepared to go over the outline of the rituals you’ve prepared.” He pauses, stares at a point into the distance. “The outlines you’ve prepared for the rituals you’re considering,” he corrects himself. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. There’s plenty of time for your work.” He only gives them a moment before he waves at the door. “Go. Please.”

Kit grabs for the bag, hoists it and is out the door quickly. “There are tables and chairs in the lobby. We can eat there. You guys can join us.”

“You went there.” Alaric grips Carolyn’s hand, twists it to look at her palm. She tries to pull away and he lets her go. “Sorry.”

“It’s not possible,” Carolyn tells him, because no matter how she tries to twist it in her mind, it keeps coming up the same way. “It’s just not possible. I’m not a teleporter. I’ve never done anything like that before—not the dream, not the potential reality of it.”

She follows after Kit because she knows she needs to eat, and he has food. She’s not really hungry, and a part of her just wants to escape from Alaric’s scrutiny.

“You can eat with us,” Kit says. “Because I want to keep talking about this.”

“I don’t.” Carolyn’s voice is quiet, but she knows Drea hears her by the way Drea threads her arm through Carolyn’s and tucks in close.

“I know,” Drea whispers, leaning her head against Carolyn’s briefly. “But I think maybe we have to. Because of the shadows.”

They pull two couches close to one low table, then spread the food out. Kit glances at his watch, and Carolyn checks hers as well. They’ve got thirty minutes before Kit has to be halfway across campus and sitting in a lecture.

“I’ll be late. This is more important.” Kit squeezes her hand. “Okay?”

Alaric pulls paper plates out of the bag, along with chopsticks and forks. They all make their plates, and for a moment, they’re silent while eating. It gives Carolyn time to go over it all in her head, try to deal with the idea that if the dream was real, she might have gone to Drea’s home. “I’d know if I could see it,” she says slowly, gesturing with lo mein at the end of her chopsticks.

“That would be—”

“Difficult,” Drea cuts Alaric off. “It would be difficult, but not impossible. Right, Alaric?”

Alaric’s expression sours. He eats another bite of food before setting it aside. “Right,” he grumbles. “My family doesn’t like Mages. Which you know. And you’re a Mage, whether you think of yourself that way or not. You smell like it. You carry magic. Your predictive Talent is magic. And whatever you did to get yourself there in the first place was magic.”

“We’d need to make sure Mom kept Dad clear of the house,” Drea suggests.

“I’ll go with you,” Kit offers. “As long as it’s not Saturday. I have a date.”

“SigPsiEp is sponsoring the Saturday movie,” Carolyn points out. “So Drea and I couldn’t go then, either.”

“It’s not far, we could do a day trip on Sunday. If you think you’ll be up early enough,” Drea suggests. “We just need a car, and Alaric and I don’t have one. And Chris’s car isn’t big enough to get us all there.”

“I’ll ask Dax if he can borrow his mom’s van,” Alaric offers. “That’ll fit all four of us, plus Dax, no problem.”

“So we’re talking about bringing three Mages onto the property,” Drea muses.

Alaric huffs, jaw set. “And I’m going to distract him while you and Mom go out to the house with them,” he says, voice tight. “I’ve been talking to Dayton about our alliance. He’s not going to like anything I have to say, so he’ll spend the whole time yelling at me. I have a proposal from Trey and Joseph that should take an hour at least before he’s calmed down enough to be reasonable. That’s not even going into what Aly and Devon want to do.”

Carolyn’s phone dings, and she pulls it out on autopilot, touching the screen to open her email. She expects it to be something from the house, about the movie or another event. Or maybe something from a class.

She doesn’t expect to see the name Shawn Benedict.

She pauses, her thumb over the message, breath tight in her chest.

“What?” Alaric asks. “You’re panicking. No one’s going to let Theobald hurt you. He’s an ass, but I’ll keep him busy.”

“He’s our father, and he’s not that bad,” Drea says. “Or maybe he is, but we can keep him under control if Mom helps.”

“It’s not that.” Carolyn tilts the phone so Kit can see the name. He inhales roughly, and she touches the message to open it.

Caro—

Hey. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Sometimes it seems like we just graduated, other times it seems like a lifetime since we were sixteen. In a strange way, I miss those years, but I know I was an idiot then, so I’m sure you don’t miss that me.

I’m sorry. I said that a lot then, and I don’t know if I meant it at the time, but I do now. I was an asshole. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty.

I don’t know if you’ve heard from Delilah recently, but she’s seen some weird things happen, and so have I, and we were talking and your name came up. It looks like PHU is only a few hours drive after I pick her up, so we were thinking we could come out next week to talk to you.

Because I’m pretty sure you’re the only one besides us, and Samson, who’d have any chance at figuring out what’s going on.

Delilah says she’s sorry, too. I’m sure Samson would.

Tears spring to Carolyn’s eyes. She shaking, breath shuddering in her chest, and the screen blurs. She rubs at her eyes, takes the tissue that Drea offers, and tries to focus long enough to finish reading the message.

Delilah doesn’t have Tuesday afternoon classes, and I’m willing to skip mine, and my Wednesday morning class, so we can come out. It’s then or Thursday. I figured you wouldn’t want us to come out for a weekend.

Let me know what works for you.

—Shawn

Carolyn locks the phone by feel, drops it on the table and leans forward, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. Kit slides slower, his hand on her back in low circles as she gulps in breath, tears escaping in a ragged sob. When he tugs, she goes to him, curls in tight, presses her face against his shoulder as he continues to rub her back.

“What happened?” Drea asks, worry in her voice. “Is your family okay?”

“That was her ex,” Kit says flatly, and Carolyn closes her eyes.

“Relationships,” Alaric mutters.

Carolyn doesn’t want to see Shawn or Delilah. She doesn’t want to think about Samson. But after everything that’s happened in recent days, after all the upheaval, she has to wonder at the timing of his message. Because coincidence is one thing, but it’s all too possible that her dream and whatever Shawn wants have something to do with each other.

And no matter how much she’d like to see Shawn Benedict thrown from the Tower, she’s too kind to let someone hit the ground. She can’t refuse to help.

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[witchescompendium]

WITCHES AND WICCA 101 Sunday School week 1

As promised, from our first Sunday School Lesson

BASICS OF WITCHES AND WICCA 101

Sunday School week 1

Witches are not the supernatural creatures we have come to think of from movies, films and books. Witches don’t sell their souls to Satan, ride broomsticks, conjure otherworldly entities to wreak havoc on their enemies and cook little children. Witches are everyday people who live everyday lives who happen to know how to tap into the universe and try to live lives as one with the universe and the energies around them.

To be a witch does not mean you have to be a Wiccan, conversely, to be a Wiccan does not make you a witch. However these two titles, these two words have become interchangeable and often one is used in the place of the other. However many witches hold the same principles as Wiccans, respecting the earth and honoring the seasons, the gods and forces of the universe and nature. (as they are different I will refer to them as separate things unless otherwise stated in the following texts.)

Wearing a pentacle doesn’t make you a witch or Wiccan, calling yourself a witch or Wiccan doesn’t make you one either.  Wearing black and cloaks and pointed hats, another thing that doesn’t make you one. Attending rituals, sabbats and esbats, reading books, and internet posts and sites, or casting spells, none of these make you a witch or Wiccan. To be one (both or the other) you have to live the life. You have to understand what it means, what the responsibilities are of such actions.

The first rule most anyone practicing will tell you is Harm None. Self explanatory, Do what you want, but harm no one in the process, this includes yourself. Keep in mind, what you send out, comes back to you three fold. This isn’t limited to magical acts or spells; this is something to keep in mind for daily life. Act like a bitch you’ll get treated just the same but worse. All actions have consequences. And all magic comes with a price. Our thoughts, our words our actions, all of them have power and all of them come back to us. So think about that before you act hastily, or harshly. Remember that part of the responsibility that lies in your actions, can also affect other people as well, not just the one who is your aim.

Not everyone is perfect; we are all going to learn at different times and in different ways. Anyone who tells you they are perfectly in tune that they have studied for 20 30, 40 years and are masters and yet can’t cast a basic circle, or cleanse a ritual area, should tell you something. The effort you put into it is what the result will be. You can’t be a wayfarer studying when you want and expecting the world to bend at your knee. Reading only what serves your purpose and not understanding why you still can’t perform the simplest actions.

The other thing that many practitioner fall victim to is what I like to call “the Curse of want” This is where you believe and want all the items listed on the Tool list in a book. So you begin buying right away and suddenly you have 30 decks of tarot cards, 14 athames, 6 wands 45 quartz crystals, 8 cauldrons of various sizes and material,  mortar and pestles and  cabinets of herbs which you aren’t even quite sure what over ¾ of them actually are. I will admit that in the beginning I thought I had to have it all, but I didn’t rush out to get it. I took my time and let the objects and items find me. I will also admit I am one who loves to collect oracle decks and tools, but there are only a few of them that I use on a regular basis. Unless the others call to me, then usually I don’t even bother to bring them out or show them off.

What will follow over the course of the next little while will be a series of lessons and studies to not only inform but help guide through the process of deepening ones devotion and journey into the craft. This will include many different lessons, from basic etiquette in the circle, working with a coven, tools, timing, potions, spells, basic astrology, and more. We have already covered Dedication and the Altar, as well as Circles. Although I may touch on those things again as we continue, and re-share those hand outs.  

So what are the basics a witch or Wiccan needs to begin? That’s simple, their will, a general working understanding of what they are about to venture into and the dedication to achieve it. Focus, Silence, and understanding, which coincide with the four fundamentals of a witch, To Know, To Will, To Dare, and to Be Silent. I strongly believe that these “tools” will get your further in your journey than anything. So our first lesson is: Understanding what it is to be a witch, what that responsibility entails and how exactly these four things play a part in your everyday life.

UNDERSTANDING WHAT IT IS TO BE A WITCH

Did you turn to the craft to gain phenomenal cosmic powers, to bend others to your will, to gain the ability to master the dark arts and conjure up spectral entities to avenge you when you have been wronged? Did you  come to the craft thinking you would sell your soul because you were seeking the ability to bend time and space to your will, to harness the supernatural abilities of the universe, to strike fear in the hearts of your enemies when your eyes change colors and you wield the power of lightening from your finger tips? Or did you come  with the hopes to fly on your broom stick to the dark reaches of the planet and gather the most mystical and unusual ingredients to whip up a powerful potion, physic or draught to bewitch and ensnare?

If you responded to YES for any of these, then you need to have a harsh dose of reality and a side or of grow up, super sized with a shake to wash it down. The truth is, that though many of these things are believed to be part of what a real witch is, none of them are the truth. Witches don’t fly on brooms, harness dark energy or use their powers or knowledge to strike fear into anyone. Witch don’t sell their souls or wield any sort of supernatural powers.

Witch is a name given to many, in old times it was given to pagans ore any of  those who still held the “old ways” of worshiping nature and the universe, as well as a God and Goddess, by the Christians because they wanted to convert the masses, and to demonize the faith and belief of one race or nation, was a great way to boost your religions supremacy. Over time the word Witch became associated with Women and Warlock with men. However a Warlock is not a male witch, they are a traitor to the kind, “an oath breaker” as the title translates.

Witches were knowledgeable on the universe and the energies of the world around them. They knew how to use this energy, and their own energy to bring about change, to heal and to grow. In the eyes of those seeking to destroy them they were doing the bidding of Satan and were evil creatures. The funny thing is, the Devil is a concept created by Christianity when it demonized other nation’s gods. When they call witches devil worshippers, it never strikes them that in order to be a devil worshipper, you have to first believe in the devil, which is a Christian concept, so thusly; wouldn’t it stand to reason that only Christians could be devil worshippers since they believe so strongly in him?

To Know, To Dare To Will and To Be Silent:

To Know: Know your craft, but mostly know yourself. You may not fully know yourself, there are plenty of us who don’t know who we are, but know who you are at this point and time. Know what your limits are, know where you stand. You are going to be the greatest mystery you will ever have to learn. Magic, ritual, these are things that can be taught, that can become easier with practice and repetition, but you change as you grow, as you evolve and learn. As you become aware of yourself you begin to leave behind values and morals which no longer serve or suit the you who you have become.

Knowledge is power, so it is obvious I think why To Know is one of the “greatest powers” of a witch. But to simply read, and commit things to knowledge, if you don’t know what you have read, and practice it. Knowledge is a great thing, but you have to have the Will to make things happen, but you have to first Dare to do them.

To Dare: To Dare I think is one of those things that can be interpreted in many ways. To Dare, to dare to be yourself, to dare to be different, dare to start living the life you were meant to, dare to see the possibilities before you, dare to embrace the life of a witch. Dare to be! To dare is to shuck off those feelings of doubt and hindrance, to step out from behind the curtains, to embrace those things that are taboo, or scare you. It is about not being afraid to do something. Being a witch is a life that can carry fear, because witches have a stereotype and we live in a society that generally Christian controlled. Anything that goes against the grain is wrong, evil and ridiculed, at the same time not daring to realize or recognize that so many of their own traditions started as Pagan traditions, yet still shun them. At the same time, our family and friends may not understand; either because they live with a mentality as many do, that Wicca or Witchcraft is a bad thing, or not completely understand what it is. By accepting that not everyone is going to understand but that is a path for you and you alone to tread, then you are already making leaps and bounds, and the Dare has begun.

To Will: Now that you know and you are daring, you have to have the will to bring it all together. The will is one of the most important parts. Because you can have knowledge, you can have the mentality to say you want to do something, but if you don’t have the will to follow through, then you have nothing. The will really is the guiding force behind your actions. Without it you really won’t achieve much. You have to be able to see what you want and go for it. The Will is the part that makes things happen taking that knowledge and making it into something almost tangible.  Think of it like this, you made a grocery list, and you know you have to go, but you don’t have the drive or motivation to go so you end up staying home and missing out on those things on your list that you want or need. With the will it’s the same thing, making the list, but you get up go to the store get what you need and come home and put those things to use. The will really is the most basic yet one of the most important of these 4.

To Be Silent: Silence is golden. Silence is a virtue. Silence can be deafening. Some people fear the silence. But few truly understand what silence is. And even fewer understand what Silence is as it pertains to, To B Silent.  To be silent doesn’t mean taking a vow of silence, it means quieting yourself, your mind. Listening to what is around you. If your mouth never stops how will you hear what the universe is trying to say? If your mind never quiets how are you ever going to understand what the universe is saying?  

To be silent also means to not go running your mouth to everyone about your practice. Some people feel extremely comfortable telling people they’re a witch (Wiccan) while others have to be more discrete. Some people use it as a way to boost their ego and to intimidate others by informing them of the fact. To some it is a title and that is it, for they feel saying they are a witch makes them one, and that if someone believes they are a witch then they will be less likely to mess with that person, or will perhaps be more likely to bend to that persons will. The Silence in this situation is especially important when you are a part of a Coven, for silence is a requirement. Again this goes back to privacy and in the old days it was a matter of safety.

Another thing, is silence is a vital part of your magic. If you go around boasting and bragging about your magic, you are going to weaken its charm. The rule is once you have cast the spell, don’t talk about it. Just let it go and do its job and rest assure it is doing what it is suppose to be. Talking about it weakens the magic, the more you dwell the more the expectations are built up to what we want to happen in lo of what the universe will let happen. (more on magic and how it works later).

Silence, will, daring, and knowing, our intentions, the fundamentals of a witch.

When you begin to know yourself, you know that you have truly begun your journey into becoming a true witch.

[serenthewitch]

✨Vintage Wisdom Oracle Review🔮

(First things first LOOK at that Patience card doesn't it just make your heart melt?)

Why I got the deck

I really loved the art style it's so unique and approachable. I always loved the sort of 20s 30s flapper aesthetic but i never really had a way to incorporate it into my fashion or my craft (it just didn't fit all the way) and I never wanted it to. This deck has vintage elements but it's so much more and offers such. The cards are a nice size if you like cards on The bigger size and the card stock is pretty nice not too flimsy a bit slippery though since I've found myself dropping cards while shuffling but maybe I'm just clumsy.

Not only is the art style on the front eye catching and breath taking in various ways but the back doesn't disappoint at all (I mean look at the card to the bottom left) it really encapsulates not only the vintage point but also a bit of antique perhaps Elizabethan artistry. The deck is very much attached to element of air and earth with the countless depictions of butterfly and flowers.

What I like about the deck

It's not only rustic and wise (as it entails) but it's had such a great personality. It's very sweet and playful almost in a tasteful and flirtatious manner. It communicates in a informal way and I find myself able to have silent conversations while watching a movie, getting well fitting reactions and representations/interpretations of what I'm watching. I find these moments very amusing.

My experience with the deck

I was watching Princess and The Frog with my girlfriend and as I showed her the deck I found myself shuffle absentmindedly as I picked random cards and watched the film.

I looked down at the card as I watched the scene where as Nadia wished on a star for a prince. Tiana saw the Prince and at that moment I pulled out the card love.

When Nadia saw he appeared she puts on makeup to cover the fact that she was crying, at that point I pulled the card perception.

The prince and Nadia meet in the middle and the Prince whisked her off her feet beginning to date I looked down and I had pulled the grace card.

The scene focused on them, on Nadia's smile and the soft lights as they glided across the dance floor. I pulled the gentleness then.

I kept showing my girlfriend and she told me to shut up and watched the movie. I laughed and told the deck it was funny as I shuffled again. I pulled out the card playfulness and I smiled fondly in response.

It feels friendly like my Good Tarot deck but less maternal and more in a way of companionship (platonic in a nonplatonic way if that makes sense).

For more follow my Insta @serenthebarren

[forceyourway]

Tree of Life Shadow Work Challenge

Day Two: “What facet of my childhood have I overlooked or otherwise need to evaluate?”

(Using Loki’s tarot deck, “The Raven’s Prophecy Tarot”)

The Magician - A master of all they undertake, The Magician has extraordinary influence on the world. They’re versatile; they can shape things and bring them into being, alter them, and destroy them. As such, they are in a sense indomitable; they can take whatever the world throws at them and make it their own. I thought this would be Loki’s signifier, as I experience him very much in this way, but he ended up going for the Nine of Wands. I do maintain that he fits the description, and though it may not be is calling card, he is The Magician all the same. This may be about recognizing how he fits into my life, and/or about recognizing my own power and ability to control my destiny. Both, probably. Both is good.

My Childhood

Trace back your memories as far as you can. Try to overview your early life in as much detail as possible. Articulate or otherwise express how you experienced childhood as a whole. Heed to any areas of resistance you encounter. Note pivotal turning points or memories that stand out. Attempt to recall the first time you experienced emotions like sadness, anger, jealousy, anxiety, remorse, and contempt.

TW: abuse, child abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, psychological abuse, mental abuse, spiritual abuse, bullying, Christianity

It sucked, basically. My mom’s abusive, my dad’s abusive, my sister’s abusive, everyone’s abusive.

When I was young, I’m not sure how young, but before 3rd grade, my dad was setting off fireworks in the backyard. He’s still really into that. They’re illegal in my state, so a police car came by, and I think they were asking my dad questions. My babysitter took me and my sister and ran upstairs to hide. Maybe in a closet. I didn’t know what was going to happen and I was scared. That’s probably my first “fear” moment. That or walking in on my mom watching poltergeist, holy shit that was terrifying. I still can’t do scary movies, especially not supernatural ones. I had a crush on the boy who lived a few houses down. He was a few years older than me, and his sister was the babysitter mentioned above. Sometimes I hung out over at their house, playing Sonic and stuff. One day, he and his older brother staged some kind of ridiculous murder scene downstairs. They kept trying to get me down by bribing me with lollipops, but I kept refusing. I knew they were up to something. I don’t remember how I ended up going down - maybe just to get them to stop bugging me - but they played out this whole thing where there was a murderer in the house and he was slowly killing everyone. Ketchup and lemonade (to make their voice hoarse, as if they were choked) were involved. I knew the “blood” was ketchup and that everything was fake, but ended up getting really upset by the thought of my crush being murdered. That’s probably my first “anxiety/despair” moment.

We moved the summer before I started 3rd grade, I think, and stayed there for the entirety of my childhood.  I’m not sure when my parents started going at each other. I remember we went to Disney World, maybe when I was in 5th grade? and there was a good bit of screaming at each other then. I don’t remember it before; maybe I was too young to know. Regardless, Disney World is probably my happiest (childhood) memory.

In 5th grade, we went to a Catholic school. I was bullied by pretty much everyone, even my “best friend,” who ended up being a sort of nightmare. But otherwise, nothing too crazy.

When I was in 6th grade, my mom took me and my sister and ran off to another state (where our extended family is). No warning. One day we were just gone. I don’t remember how she explained that to us. We went to a Catholic school that had a serious Hive Mentality thing going on. They didn’t want me and my sister. Our teachers were horrible to us, and I kept ending up in situations where I looked very guilty but was in fact innocent and totally oblivious to what was going on. This is probably the start of “anger.” They wanted to expel me, but couldn’t come up with a reason why. My mom immediately started seeing other people, and my dad was furious. He’s of a very traditional mindset, marriage is forever, your duty is to your family, blah blah. So he did some e-mail hacking and ended up posing as an online therapist, who encouraged my mom to go back to him. She still doesn’t know.

That’s about when shit started getting really bad. He would scream til he was purple about how awful she was, pretty much all hours, pretty much every day, I think. Anti-women slurs everywhere. When me or my sister displeased him, he’d turn it on us. Even casual conversation with him was somehow linked back to our mother “ruining our lives.” At some point there was family therapy, which was an absolute disaster. They said I was “Obsessive Defiant.” I guess “abused” was never even a consideration. He’d start screaming “Defiance!” at me if I didn’t do a thing fast enough, like, “Pass the butter. Defiance!!!” like shit give me a second. My mom I guess blamed us for our dad’s BS and was always on about how we’re ruining her life and how I’m some kind of evil devil child and I’d have nightmares all the time about burning in hell.

The second half of 6th grade I went back into public school, and basically went right to my closest friends from public-elementary-school, who were The Losers. No one else remembered me, so going straight for The Losers pretty much instantly made me one of them. Probably the most, like, “establishing character moment” in my life, and the first "fuck you” at the world moment. Like I was starting to realize what behaviour was not acceptable among people (after fucking up a whole lot first, courtesy of my parents), and pretty much took a hard stand against bullshit, and recognizing my friends being The Losers was messed up. I got bullied. One girl beat the shit out of me once. My dad picked me up from a sleepover at her house, and blamed me for it. Obviously I must have deserved it, or something.

My sister was a weird aggressive child who physically grew up too fast, if you get me. She was always jealous that I got along so well with our cousin (she was like in-between us, age-wise), and her favorite game was Beat Up. It’s exactly what it sounds like, with me as the target. People don’t take notice because she’s younger than me - a good bit younger - but damn if she wasn’t bigger/stronger than me, like. There’s more, but I won’t type that on here. I don’t talk about that.

High school there was more persistent bullying, but never physical. Only the one time ever was. In 9th grade it got to the point where I just stopped talking. I’d talk to like 1 person, and at home because god, can you imagine what would have happened if I went silent at home. “Defiance!!11!1″ I think in 10th it got better. I kind of acquired friends because my (new) best friend was friends with a bunch of people, and I was always hanging out with her. We’re all still friends now. I guess.

No one knew about my family’s issues. Not my friends, anyway. One of my sister’s friends found out once after kind of witnessing my dad beat the shit out of me because I refused to go swimming at the river (I was on my period, dude). He was screaming about how I was destroying the family or something??? I provoked him into hitting me, so he smacked the shit out of me. The poor girl was apparently smacked around herself, because she didn’t take seeing this well at all. I remember my dad was going to drive me to school for my senior picture, and I was tying my shoelaces and clearing my throat. You know how your voice kind of catches in your throat? For some reason he assumed this was me throwing a fit about him not “getting ready fast enough”??? and he started with the usual screaming. I said fine, I’ll walk, not wanting to really ride with that anyway. I get about halfway there, and he’s in the car hanging out the window, purple-red, screaming about how if I don’t get in the car he’ll drag me in, and my mother, my mother, it’s all her fault, I’m just like her. I tried sitting in the back. Wrong choice. He screamed in my face the whole way there. I was crying hysterically at school, but trying to hide it. People who hated me were asking me what was wrong. None of my friends were there. I was trying not to burst into tears literally as they were taking my picture.

It was bad. My childhood was bad. Bad all over. Not sure what you’re looking for here, really.